Bad Company
by tynestar
Summary: John Connor is the future Saviour of mankind, he's strong, brave, and willing to sacrifice everything for a greater good but he's missing the clue. Claire Bennet is the indestructable cheerleader, she's scared, hiding, and self-sacrificial,and dependant.
1. Unfold

Disclaimer :John Connor is a trademark of the Terminator, Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles series, James Cameron, Orion, and TriStar. Claire Bennet is a trademark of NBC, Tim Kring, and Heroes.

AN: I tried to get a beta, but couldn't find one that knew both Terminator and Heroes. If you know anyone or are someone who does please let me know.

**John Connor - Los Angeles, California**

The first girl, or even person for that matter, that I had ever invited over to my house, was not a long time friend or girlfriend, but a complete stranger. She is a girl who I know I cannot trust. Under normal circumstances, I would force myself to stay away from her, same as I tried to do with Riley, but this is different, Cameron says I have to get close to and protect her, make sure she lives past Judgment Day. She says she will become some sort of fighter, one who saves many lives in the future, including my own.

Not like any of that matters anyhow, she declined my invitation, multiple times before bolting. Cameron of course had chased her down anyway. I don't know what to do anymore, what with Cameron pursuing random (or not so random) girls, with claims of their future importance and all. I've been sitting on this park bench for the past hour, Mom's doubtlessly somewhere around here, watching me, making sure no one is going to attack. After all she has to protect the all-important 'savior of mankind' never mind her son whom is the one who really needs saving, just as long as nothing happens to his pretty, little shell.

God knows what's going to happen to that girl in the future, Claire something or another. How old was she anyway, when I saw her earlier, she looked to be 14 or 15 at the most. She's just a kid, just same as me, but it's not as if she has the experiences I do. What could be so important about her in the future that Cameron had to save her? Can anyone really be that special?

"John?" my name sounded around me and I barely had the energy to pull myself from my troubling thoughts and turn around to see Riley standing behind me. "What's wrong John? What happened to your face?" she probed, voice filled with panic and trepidation. I don't have a response to that; at least I don't have an honest answer. All I can do without being overwhelmed with guilt is shrug. "What's wrong John? Did you get in a fight? Did your mom hit you? Please just tell me what happened, John." She really does look horrified; this certainly doesn't help my conscious.

"I'm sorry Riley, I have to go, I'll call you later alright?" Her face is breaking me; I can't stand to see her like that. She looks so worried about me and I know that I don't deserve any of her concern. I whip around on my heel and sprint, just pick up my feet and scamper out of there, away. Trying to ignore the look on Riley's face, I head back to Mom, well I start to before I a thought forces me to stop. Where Am I. Thinking back I can't remember how I got here. Verizon still has not replaced my phone since I dropped last week, freaking Voyager. I should have gotten the Dare, or the EnV. 2, Suddenly I recognize the complete and utter uselessness of regretting the past, especially something as ridiculous as a phone choice, it's not as if I'm going to go back in time and pick a different cell phone. So running away probably had not been the smartest move on my part and I will have to take full responsibility for that-stupid-choice, but hey, I should be allowed to live my own life every once and awhile, Mom owes me that, really destiny owes me that much. For 15 years I just sat around did whatever I was asked-no told, when Mom said jump I jumped, I didn't say anything, just jumped. It's more likely she's just pissed that I'm growing my own brain than that I knowingly put myself in danger. But you know what, she's just going to have to deal with that, if only for one day.

By the time I got home, my regret of leaving had grown exponentially. I had the chance to linger in the doorway for about-oh two seconds before it was launched open, revealing a very pissed, and maybe even slightly upset, Sarah Connor-Oops, I mean Baum. Instantly her hand was on my collar wrenching my weakish body through the door, I didn't have a chance to even feel it though; her questions are pounding my skull. "Where the hell have you been?" she demanded shaking me, but it appeared as if she were literally shaking too. "You could not have picked a worse time to be a typical, rebellious teenager and you know it! You can't just leave John! For all I knew you could have been dead! You're too important!" and here it goes again with the 'I'm too important shi…z,'-I need to break that habit before it consumes me-. I seriously think that sometimes, I'm not her real son, and that the only reason she even takes care of me is that I'm supposed to save the future from going to Hell. I sigh and turn to face her.

"I'm sorry!" I scream and shout, my voice wavering between syllables, "I'm sorry that I got freaked out when I saw Cameron kill a man! I'm sorry that I couldn't handle that! I'm 16 Mom! Be happy I'm even still here, if I had an ounce of sanity left (well really in me to start with) in me then I would have ran ages ago." Sighing I looked down at my shoes and try fiercely to calm myself down, counting in French, un, deux, trois… "I'm sorry mom, I won't do it again." I said feeling partially annoyed at myself for letting her control me like that and partially proud of myself for taking control of myself-if only slightly. I don't know where the pride bit comes from, it's always been this way, even when I detest her and all she does I can't bring myself to hurt her.

**Claire Bennet -Los Angeles, California**

Forcing my eyes open, I attempt to break the dark veil with my eyes but I can't, shocker huh. The only things visible are the two blue lights, about an inch apart and anywhere from 5 feet and 4 inches to 5 feet and 7 inches in the air. At least I think, she tied me to a chair, my perspective from down here could be completely off. Why have I been tied to a chair in a dark, dark room anyway? This doesn't exactly seem like Company protocol and Sylar already... None of this makes any sense, at all. Who wants me bad enough to resort to illegal means and wouldn't initially drug me, no that bitch didn't sedate me, she pounced on me and shoved me to the ground, it's a good thing Sylar already got me otherwise that would have hurt a bit, you know maybe a little.

Sylar, he's the whole reason I'm even here in the first place, I don't think Mom liked coming home to find her daughter with blood streaked across her forehead like is was some new fashion trend. Daddy dearest probably wasn't too happy hearing the news either; I imagine that's why he sent me away. He said it was the company, he said they're after me again, but didn't he just make that deal, no, it doesn't make sense. That man does have a -strong- tendency to lie; I wouldn't be surprised.

-Flashback-

Boarding that plane was the hardest thing I had ever done, not that leaving my family had been easy before but at least then there was the possibility of seeing them again, now not so much. Before I knew what I had to do, the first time I had to find Peter, Second time I had to be a normal girl. Now... nothing, all I even have to go on is my passport. I am Claire Barstow, I am nineteen and I am from Washington.

Making my way to the back of the plane, I sat my butt down next to some old woman who looked like she was going to die. I clutched my only possessions I had left (along with a suitcase full of new designer clothes. Does Dad really think he can buy me off like that, does he think new clothes is going to make this all okay?) A small, black Target bag, I bought when I was like 12. The bag contains my new cell phone, the jukebox, -cheapest phone available- and digital camera, I have to keep up pretenses, I'm just your typical little college kid, or dropout in "my case," who is just along for the parties, I need my camera to record all the fun, drunken nights I'm supposed to be having in L.A.

I am going to Los Angeles; I have never been there before. Real Me hopes it's not nearly as exciting as I hear it is. But new Party Claire wants it to be filled with hot guys, okay real me wants that too, but Party Claire also wants booze, drugs and sex with guys she probably won't remember three months from now anyways.

The flight attendant went over the normal stuff, safety procedures, buckle yourself in, close the tray, Etc... I wish people would learn that we are capable of taking care of ourselves... not that all of us need to though. I'm seventeen years old so why do I feel like I'm thirty?

I had plenty of concerns on the plane but I don't think I even considered being the victim of a random kidnapping by crazy, psychopath teenagers with a lot of muscle.

"Claire Bennet" Okay maybe not so random, it was the only thought I could think of as my mind filled with terror, pushing out room for any rational thoughts and turning them all into 'How did she know'. "Are you okay Claire Bennet?" that crazy, psychotic, _brunette, _teenager inquired nonchalantly. It's crazy. It's as if kidnapping is no big deal to her, like it's part of her daily routine. I glanced around the room to make sure it wasn't part of her daily routine.

"Why do you even care?" it was icy and I knew it, but how else are you supposed to answer a whacked out question like that.

"Because you're important," she spoke the words carefully and slowly, as if speaking to a slow three year old. My kidnapper replied impassively.

"I'm important?"

"Yes."

"Why, what makes me so special?" I wanted to know. How does she even know who I am to begin with?

"Your fighting and stealth abilities are great. So is your strength"

"What did you kidnap me so I would teach to fight? Great strategy, how's it working out for you? Not well? Huh, I thought I would respond so well to being taken here without my consent, and anyways I can't fight. No one is willing to teach me. Peter certainly wouldn't."

"I will teach you."

"What."

"I will teach you."

"What so this is beyond confusing now, what are you talking about."

"I will teach you to fight." Her voice is wavering, it is still calm, and cool and collected. It's kind of freaking me out.

I am still struggling to come up with a response to that when a familiar voice breaks my concentration. Zach's voice. I don't understand. "Cameron," he calls out "Mom wants to talk to you." Is he a kidnapping psychopath now too? "Come on, Mom really wants to talk to you Cam," Zach repeats, coming down the stairs. Wait? Stairs? He flicks on the lights.

My pain and hurt quickly turn to irritation. Seeing my best friend like this, what does he think he's doing? On a less annoyed level the skin around his eye is bright, bright red. Looks like he got decked, or walked into a door, but with his height I doubt that, maybe the top of a door frame, but not a door. He may be a jerk right now but he is still my best friend and I don't like seeing him hurt.

"Okay John. Thank you for telling me. Please watch Claire Bennet, make sure she does not attempt escape in my absence." That bitch-Cameron, says walking up the stairs.

Zach-no John? Pulls up a chair and sits across from me, while I blink and try to adjust to the light. I stare at his black pants and combat boots, is he going for the bad-boy look now? Quite a leap if you ask me.

"Zach? Why are you doing this to me? Pretending not to recognize me was one thing, but sending your little girlfriend to kidnap me? Why? What's going on? I mean I thought I got messed up after I left Odessa, but it looks like something worse happened to you. Come on Zach, please just let me go." My little drama attack there, it started out perfect; my voice was steady and not at all on the verge of breaking. The last sentence though, I was already crying. But at least his face was cold anymore, he looked sincere. It was odd to say the least.

"I'm sorry," he began to apologize and I could just hear the, I would love to let you go but can't part coming. "I'm not Zach, my name is John Baum, that was my sister, Cameron, she thinks…well truthfully I don't have a clue what she thinks." What? None of this even fits in sanity's shadow.

"No you are not, you are Zach Carlson, you're my erstwhile(A/N yes, I do think I had to use that particular word, it means former, if you didn't figure that out and don't have a top-notch vocabulary) best friend! You're the only person I actually told my secret," Peter doesn't count he busted me, and well Daddy Dearest already knew. "Come on Zach, don't lie to me, don't tell me you're not you." I pleaded not even trying to conceal my horror any longer.

He may be going for that bad-boy look but it will never work; his eyes give him away. As much as I hate to admit it even to myself he doesn't know what I'm talking about. I'm just a rambling teenager to him. Better than being a bitchy cheerleader I suppose.

John and me shared witty banters for a little while until Cameron returned she had a sandwich in her hand and I was afraid they were going to try and force feed me. That might be a little uncomfortable. But no John untied my left hand and let me feed myself, of course I did spend much of the time trying to figure out how to get out with my left hand. Stalling with insult between every bite, and chewing treacherously slow. It didn't work, needless to say.

Another woman with blackish hair, came down the stairs. Her face reminded me slightly of Shannen Doherty, from that old show me and Jackie used to watch reruns of, oh what is it called? _Beverly Hills, 90210_! That's it, but only slightly. I definitely don't think this is her but they look similar. "Shannen" was followed by a man who also reminded me of the _Beverly Hills, 90210 _cast, Brian Austin Green, what I remember most about the show is Jackie raving about how hot and sexy David was, I had to remind her every time that the show was playing when we were four so he was probably old. She'd get upset for about three seconds then get over it and continue her crazed ravings.

"Claire?" the woman stood by Zach-John, "My name is Sarah Baum and we have reason to believe that your life is in danger.

"No it isn't."

"Claire, I need-"

"No," I cut her off "my life isn't in danger, my sanity maybe but not my life."

"Claire, listen someone is after-"

"No you know what I don't care."

"They will kill you." - Man

"I don't believe you." Yes I do. But when isn't someone after me.

"Fine, show her Cameron." Sarah said. Cameron turned her back towards me, lifted her hair in one hand and hand John some sort of knife from the other. John just looked at the knife then shifted his vision to her now bare neck in confusion. Cameron told John something like 'just show her' I'm not entirely sure, I was a bit confused myself. But finally after waiting about three more seconds John lifted the blade and plunged it into her bare skin. I would have jumped had I not been tied down. But nothing happened, Cameron legs didn't crumple like they should have, John just pulled the athaméé from her neck and she turned around. But her neck, it hadn't healed, it just bled and yet she still wasn't dead. Her glassy eyes were a sort of glowing eerie blue. It freaked me the hell out. I recollected when I first woke up there were two glowing lights just like that. _It must have been her._ Her icy orbs turned back to a brown that was actually almost blue only a second later.

"What are you?" I gasped. Still reeling.

"I am a hyper-alloy combat chassis sent from the future to protect John Connor, Sarah Connor, and any of John's future deputies I come in contact with, including Claire Mellissa Bennet and Derek Andrew Reese." Right, sure you are. Well actually she probably is.

"Are all of you hyper-alloy things?" I gasped for breath, none of this is real, none of this is real, none of this is real. I can't even pinch myself, even if I weren't tied up. Damn Sylar.

"No, that bitch is the only metal here." A gruff voice answered my question. Ah David, If only Jackie…wait, she's dead.

"So everyone else here, you're all just people?"

"Cameron is a person," John defended.

"She is?"

"No she's not." Sarah gave John a scolding look.

"What is a hyper-alloy combat chassis?" I stumbled on the words I remember her saying.

"A robot," the stranger informed me. This day is not getting any better. I was kidnapped by a robot. A robot from the future.

"This is Derek, he's also from the future, me and my Mom though, we're from the past, the year 1999, we got her in 2007, last year." John explained. And so they went, explaining how in the future John was going to save the world and how I was going to save John and how metal was going to take over. I could tell that this was just the beginning of what was going to be a very, very long day. But my mind was more focused on things like the Hatian and how if they got here in 2007 that would be two years ago. Now that I think about it Cameron reminds me a little of a girl from Union Wells too.


	2. Unfold the Past

Disclaimer :John Connor is a trademark of the Terminator, Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles series, James Cameron, Orion, and TriStar. Claire Bennet is a trademark of NBC, Tim Kring, and Heroes. Any other recognized trademarks are property of their respective owners, I own nothing in this story except for maybe starBUCKS, but I doubt even that.

Found Chapter Two - Unfold the Past

John Connor's - Los Angeles, California

Life is a funny thing. Well my life is anyway. I don't know about "normal" people's lives but mine is just bizarre. I've managed to defeat terminators where great debacles yet I can't figure out how to call a girl and apologize for leaving her confused and alone in a city park. This should be over with by now; I've been trying to dial Riley's number for at least 25 minutes but my attempts have been futile. I'm still working on a story for Riley because I still don't think she'd go for the whole "My sister (who's not really my sister) kidnapped a girl who will be of great importance in the future and needs protecting from machines from the future" story. I figure if I meet her at the pier or somewhere then I'd have time to perfect a nonexistent excuse. Right now, I have, "my mother wanted me home for a family emergency" but I want something less indolent. I need something more believable. Finally, I dialed in the numbers and jammed my finger on the "talk" button before I had the chance to look back. I waited patiently while her foster-dad got her after giving me the talk; you know the "If You so much as think about touching my daughter I will beat your ass and drag it behind my car" speech. Not that he had to; she's too virtuous for any action her dad might murder me over. I acted scared of him anyways, even if he attempted it, I doubt he'd succeed; I after all have my own personal bodyguard and made plans to meet Riley at the mall.

Claire Bennet - Los Angeles, California

Never would I have imagined this. I had imagined a lot of things after I relocated to Costa Verde. I had imagined my powers being revealed, my dad going back to hunting people like me, and even hooking up with my uncle, and occasionally I thought of Zach and how much I've missed him but I never thought of him as the kind of guy to run around with machines from the future. They say he's John Connor, the future savior of humankind, that he's a stalwart military leader in the future that his father came back in time from the future to save his mother from a terminator and ended up knocking her up and dieing. I'd offer my condolences but I imagine it was a long time ago. After they explained this John made me promise to not run away and he unbound my wrists and feet. Z-John's not that young. He, his mother, and the robot jumped forward to 2007 from 1999. That of course is when I had the epiphany that he could actually be Zach-my Zach who knew all my dirty little secrets. They don't remember the year 2007. Well John doesn't at least and his mother doesn't like me so I don't really want to ask. John said he's had a rough life, that he may have bumped his head and just forgotten, but I don't know.

Cameron - Los Angeles, California

John Connor wants to leave the house alone, I can't let him go by himself other terminators might be out there and they are full of chicanery and the world is fraught with other dangers too but Sarah Connor won't let me follow him either. She isn't even telling me where he's going. Sarah sent Derek Reese after John Connor. I give Sarah Connor an accolade by not following anyways. I will Teach Claire Bennet how to fight today, this way she will be of better use to John Connor in the future, as well she appears to be the interloper type and I can't have her messing with John Connor's mind. I sense the weight in each room of the house for her approximate weight of 122.876 lbs. I find her in the kitchen, sitting on a bar stool holding a shiny red apple that does not match her own disheveled appearance. She looks up.

"So you're from the past…and the future?" She asks me.

"Yes, in the future I will be sent back to the year 1999 to find John and Sarah Connor and take them to the future year 2007." I respond to he question in what one might say is a surreptitious kind voice.

"I would like to begin your training for the battles after judgment day. I will teach you self defense and how to destroy a terminator." Her eyes sparkle at the mention of self-defense and I note that there is a story to be told there.

"Okay, great right now?" she excitedly asks and I cannot read if she is being mordacious. She hops from her idle position on the bar stool ebulliently and I am able to more properly size her up than when she was bound to the chair. Her height is approximately 5 feet and 0.0009 inches weight: approximately 122.876, the majority of which is muscle, mostly in her legs, she contains no hidden weapons and is undamaged, a perfect quality for war. I lead her down to the basement and instruct her to try and wear me down, although I am indefatigable. Then "battle" commences.

Sarah Connor - Los Angeles, California

I'm worried about John and that girl, that girl who's infamous in this home. I suppose it's better than him and Cameron, I know he has feelings for her, and she would probably use that to her own advantage if she knew. If metal had feelings, I know that rejection from my son would cause that little bitch to loose all that aplomb she carries around, high and mighty. My son is after all a very fetching boy, even though he's caustic, very, very caustic.

Claire is another thing on my mind, she's so weird, I fear it will mess up my son, after the initial shock of being kidnapped by Cameron she became very nonchalant on the whole subject. She must have had an interesting past and I don't want her wearing off on my son, although she has some qualities that John Connor could do with. I know I make John think I want him to skip his childhood and become John Connor instantly but he doesn't know I'd trade places with him in a heartbeat if that mean he'd get a shot at a normal life.

When John told me he was going to go talk to a friend, I knew he was talking about Riley and the desire for him to have a normal life force me to acquiesce to it. I sent his uncle to trail him because we know a terminator attack is imminent.

Derek Reese - Los Angeles, California

What is her deal? I wondered to myself. I had plans today. To go and reorganize the storage unit, to make sure nothing bad happened down there (and maybe see Jesse if I had the time) now I have to spend the day babysitting a rebellious teenager. No that I would rather him get hurt, he's all I have left of my brother but I didn't foresee my day this way and it's dramatically cutting into my precious time. I don't understand why she didn't send the metal. If the metal is good at one thing it's defending John Connor, now I wouldn't go so far to say she's infallible, I've seen a much too high number of machines gone bad and sure it would be a slightly precarious step but John can take care of himself for one day right? _Ah, screw it. _I back out of the Mountaineer City Mall parking lot with confidence that John will be okay for a few hours and drive in the general direction of the storage units. Who knows what could sidetrack me at Jesse's apartment. And I'm gone.

Riley Dawson - Los Angeles, California

John said he'd meet me here in front of Starbucks. I've been waiting awhile. I hope he's all right; he didn't look so good yesterday. What happened to his face? I can't seem to stop thinking about it. He looks like someone attacked him. God, I hope he wasn't. It was probably one of those bullies, Morgan or something. I was so deep in though I didn't see John until I felt him hold my hand. I was going to ask him about his injuries but he beat me to it.

"I don't think my sister's ever going to learn how to drive." He laughs slightly and I notice his fingernails are nothing but stubs. His tell. I decide not to call him out on it, if he doesn't trust me so what? So what? So freaking what? I repeat the mantra in my head hoping I can convince myself to believe it. If I were teaching a group of kids to lie I'd use him, his lying skills are exemplary. Other than, of course, when he bites his fingernails, but strangers wouldn't recognize that.

"You were teaching-Cameron-to drive again?" I think trying to remember her name; I look down upon that haughty bitch with disdain and contempt. I laugh, "I wouldn't do that anymore if I were you and I valued my life even slightly."

"Yea I know, listen sorry I left in such a rush yesterday, I was already running late, an old friend had just flown in and I was in charge of picking her up and there would have been a massacre that compares to the Roman Massacre had my mom found out I made her wait. "

"Dude your Mom is such a tight-ass." I commented as John led me into Starbucks.

"You're telling me? I live with her." He joked before looking seriously at the menu board. He's never been her before. I step up and order two grande mocha frappuccinos. I'm fishing around my purse when he pulls out his wallet and pays the just under ten-dollar bill. I wonder if I should have ordered smaller drinks. When John almost throws away the receipt I rush to save the starBUCKS; I'm a very frugal person. At his confused face, I just smirk and slide the receipt into my back pocket.

"Hey John?" He looks up from his mocha frappuccino, eyes curious. "Before I forget," I paused; reaching into my purse, I pulled out a package of flowery pink bandages and stuck one across his forehead. He's too magnanimous, someone needs to take better care of him.

John turns; looking at his reflection in the glass window, he turns his head back to me, cocking it to the side, "Ha-ha." His amusement is just barely shining through. His fingers twitch and try to fly up to his face but I catch his hand just in time, grinning as big as I can possibly imagine. Bitchy girls walk by looking at us funny. I hate those chicks; they're an abomination. Those girls are going to be the death of us all. I snort churlishly. They roll their eyes and my diatribe ends. Whatever.

Glancing up I see some cute little boutique, O! Mo Mo! In the front window is shroom hoodie, "You're so buying me that."

Claire Bennet

Sweating I fell to the ground, my head hit the concrete of the basement floor. I quickly scampered up to my feet, hands on my head feeling for injury because I have to do that now. I sighed in relief as Cameron stared at me pondering.

"What? I'm fine thank you." I said my adversary saw me as simply magnanimous rather than actually uninjured.

My whole spirit is wracked with melancholy and facing this all-too formidable opponent. I sighed and asked for a break, she's just worn me out, too much to keep going much longer.


	3. Unfold the Broken

**Disclaimer: John Connor is a trademark of the Terminator, Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles series, James Cameron, Orion, and TriStar. Claire Bennet is a trademark of NBC, Tim Kring, and Heroes. Any other recognized trademarks are property of their respective owners, I own nothing in this story.**

So, here's a fact, no one here is who they claim to be. Sarah Baum, a 36 year old mother who job hops is really Sarah Connor, a would be 44 year old fugitive, who is raising her son to be a martyr. John Baum, a 16 year old sophomore struggling with geometry is really John Connor a would be 22 year old who is destined to say the future. Cameron Baum, another sophomore who doesn't get along with anybody is really a machine who was built to kill. And me, Claire Brendan, Cameron and John's recently orphaned cousin and sophomore, I don't even know who I am, just the indestructible cheerleader Claire Bennet. I don't even know what my last name was at birth, Gordon or Petrelli, probably Gordon; Mom cared about me a hell of a lot more than Nathan did.

Sarah and Derek set up a new alias for me, in order for Cameron to protect me as well as John. I argued that my alias as 19 year old Claire Barstow was secure but they didn't buy it. I'm kind of disappointed and kind of excited about it, I don't really want to finish my education, according to their stories I don't think I need to know biology. They are only doing this because they think this is the only way to keep me undamaged, and no matter how much I don't want to finish school I'm not planning on correcting them.

My life from now on consists of school, training from Cameron, Sarah, and Derek, and sleep. They think because I'm going to be some great hero in the future that I can't have a life now, they didn't train me before and apparently it worked out fine then.

I shrug it off and try to think of less deep things. Today is my first day of a new school, this could be interesting. It's L.A. though, I hear there's like a lot of gang violence in this area of California. I hope I'm going to school in the nice part of town; but judging by their house I don't know how this could be the wrong side. For a bunch of fugitives they sure have a nice house, especially during this economic crisis. I glance at the alarm clock next to Cameron's bed, where I have been sleeping, 6: 24. I better hurry up. I reach for the towel and begin towel drying my hair. I don't know what to wear, it helps though that I have all these designer clothes from my dad. Sarah and Derek picked my stuff up from my apartment I planned on living in. I am kind of nervous having all these clothes; they put even more pressure on wearing matching outfits and being put together 24/7. It's so much easier being a cheerleader, people just assume you're cool and you have cheerleader friends who put you together for you. I pull out a pair of dark denim jeans and a white lacey shirt trying them on but quickly replacing the jeans with a black pencil skirt and a pair of classy black heels. This is probably too dressy for school, I go back to the jeans and a green v-neck tee shirt, keep the shoes and use a tan messenger back. When I emerge from Cameron's bedroom I am fully ready to begin school again. John is eating pancakes at the table and Cameron stands staring out the window.

"You should leave in 15 minutes," Cameron states, letting her eyes glance at me but not her head. John acknowledges me by nodding towards the oven. I glance in and see a small stack of pancakes keeping warm. Without thinking I reach in and grab it with my bare hands.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" John asks startled. Shit, I can't do this crap anymore. I quickly set the plate down and jerk my hands away shoving them under cold water.

"That was stupid of me, I didn't think I'd have to hold the plate so long," I say with an unknown emotion. I'm a terrible actor.

"Are you ok?" he asks me, reaching into the freezer and pulling out an icepack, with some concern.

"Yea, I guess I'm just a ditz is all," I say, pressing the ice pack firmly against my palms. Great, now he probably thinks I am a ditz. I watch as he fixes me a stack of pancakes, offering both butter and syrup, both of which I accept.

I bite into the pancake, realizing they're burnt. "Let me guess, you made these John?" These are definitely men pancakes.

"No, actually my mom did." Wow she clearly ain't a cook.

"You should leave now," Cameron states, turning her head from the window as I finish half of a second pancake. "I'll get Sarah."

"Does she ever pass for human?" I ask John as Cameron leaves the room.

"Surprisingly yes actually, although I'm sure most people think she's mental or something." I'm sure.

"Don't worry, I'm just as surprised as you are Claire," Sarah says, entering the room with her purse over her shoulder and her keys in her hand.

She drops us off at school. The car ride consists of one very brief conversation.

"Why do we have to go to school but Cameron doesn't?"

"It's the only way to keep our cover up, like you said earlier, 'how does she pass for human?' She got really hurt and should technically still be recovering, besides, she's metal, she knows everything she needs to already," the last part comes out of his mouth whiney. He doesn't want to be here anymore than I do.

John Connor's PoV

School, shit. I am not prepared for this. I don't know why but school is harder than fighting machines sometimes. It's all this pressure to fit in and say the right thing and never screw up. For whatever reason society is too demanding. I wonder what it would be like if this pressure didn't exist. I think we would all be happy, except me. I will always feel this pressure, to save the human race. I'd still be the kid I used to be if I whined about this in my head. I only do the whole whining about school bit to feel human, it's the only way to stay sane. Complaining about school is the only way I can avoid being a kid and complaining. I'm sure people wouldn't be too happy with a baby savior. I'm sure no one would be that desperate. But then again people are desperate. In the future, they will be desperate for their lives, now, they are desperate for money. People will do anything in these times, steal just to support themselves and their families, girls sell their bodies. The world is scary and not just from murders, _machines_, and muggers, not just from people or people look a likes.

It's B block and I'm really bored. I suppose I should be paying attention to n-gons and how to make them with paper but I really don't give a shit about geometry. I got Claire her schedule today, she's in all smart classes, Algebra two and AP chemistry. We have A block, German 2 together. She has Computer Applications D block, no chance we would have that together. Mom is so strict about that, it's so annoying I'm not allowed to use public computers, it's a wonder how I'm allowed to even go out in public, ever. Although she has had those moments.

I feel a small vibration in my left pocket, who would be calling me now; it's not like I'm mister popularity or something. I pull my phone out and try to subtly tuck it under the desk, it's a text from Riley.

"You know John, kids who are always looking down are either texting or have a bad obsession." Mr. Davidson's voice startles me from the text. I push the 'end' button on my phone quickly and hand it over to his outstretched hand. Watching as he sets it done on his desk. Shit, I don't know what to do, my phone has never been taken away before, how do I get it back?

The rest of geometry goes by really slow, ending with Mr. Davidson remind us that our circles test is tomorrow. Shit, I still haven't done any of this chapter's homework, I'm going to have to do it all tonight.

Lunch is after B block so I head to the cafeteria and get in line. I buy soggy nachos and pick a random table and pull out my geometry book, it's not like I have anything better to do at lunch. I've finished all the homework from section of chapter six and about 1/3 of my nachos by the time Claire enters the cafeteria looking confused. I glance up, see that the lunch people already closed the stand and motion Claire over, sliding over my plastic-tasting food to her as she sits. I wonder if the food in the future tastes like this. I wonder if we even have food. What if we have to fry rats just to get by in the future. Maybe if I don't complain about school food then the food of the future will actually taste good. I'd ask Cameron but I don't think she would know because she doesn't have to eat. I wonder where the food she actually does eat goes. Does it go to powering some huge battery in her stomach area?

"Thanks. I got lost and some greasy haired guy kept trying to hit on me, no help at all," she exclaims, sighing. I can see why some guy would be trying to hit on her, she's hot. She's definitely not the only one either, Riley and Cameron are also damn hot. Riley looks like a model and Cameron always has the guys watching, it's been helpful during certain missions. I try to sound like that's the best part of her hotness in my thoughts. I don't know how your thoughts can sound a certain way, but they can. It's confusing, same as when I got put in my first foster home. I couldn't quite grasp the idea of staying and living in one place or even eating cereal for breakfast. I spent my life training and trying to stop judgment day. I didn't know why we were trying to stop something in the future; I was just a kid and it was how I grew up. I thought everyone was trying to stop it so I was flummoxed why we couldn't stop it with the whole world on our side. I was pissed when I got first moved into that home and though my mom had been bullshitting me. Although I probably thought 'I'm so ticked, Mommy lied to me!' Sarah Connor was adamant about not cussing in front of her young son. That ended the day the picked her up and she yelled "fucking shit!" after repeating "damn. Fuck. Shit." to herself as the police were approaching. I never really comprehended how much that day changed my life before.

"You do your homework during lunch? Is it due next block or something?" Claire asked, after releasing the textbook I had unknowingly abandoned.

"Um, no but I have a lot to do tonight, besides it wasn't like there was anyone here to talk to me."

"You actually care about your grades? And what do you mean no one here, what about that girl Cameron says you like, Rilayn or something?"

"Riley? My girlfriend?"

"Yea, her!" She says her face lighting up in recognition of the name.

"She's not here today, she just got out of the hospital and is resting."

"Oh. Why was she was she in the hospital?"

"Suicide attempt."

"Oh. I'm sorry, is she going to be okay, like not suicidal anymore." She says, glancing down at her own wrists, my eyes follow nonchalantly but I see no sign of any attempted suicide so I quickly bring my eyes back to hers.

"I don't know, I hope so. Can we not talk about this?" Trying to sound cold, can this girl not shut up?

"Sorry, you didn't have to tell me." Her brightly lit, interested eyes quickly turn cold and dull. How does she do that, turn it off and on? Maybe she doesn't, maybe she is just that cruel. She probably is; she's too easy to read to be able to look cruel just to get her own way. But still.

"Whatever, lunch is over in two minutes, you might want to run. You can make it to class on time and maybe lose a few of those shaggy pounds in your arms." How's that for on and off cruel! I say it with pride and accomplishment but looking back up into her eyes makes me regret it. She doesn't look hurt, just confused and pissed. Damn, why do I always have to try to top everyone. It's this stupid future-savior-of-mankind complex; it makes me too goddamn competitive.

"I'm…I'm not going to make it anyway…I'm new and I'll get lost, and it's muscle!" she exclaims her negative comeback, flinging my geometry book down, _hard,_ onto my hands on the table. I should have been able to dodge that. How can I dodge bullets if I can't even dodge flying textbooks?

Claire Bennet PoV

I can't believe I thought that asshole was Zach! He's such a friggin' jerk! Caught up in my anger I don't notice some stoner's leg dangling out in the middle of the hallway and fall flat on my face. "Ow," I mutter, just for effect. Climbing back to my feet I realize I have no idea where my next class is, AP European History in F4, like that helps any. They should have given me a map, except I'd probably look like an idiot for carrying a map in the middle of the quarter. Yea, that would not help my social status, people probably already think I'm a freak for setting off the metal detector three time before I realized the bracelet I was wearing. What kind of school has metal detectors anyway? Costa Verde had the little wands that they occasionally used. I remember the girl who thought it was a breathalyzer and blew her spit all over it.

I walked through the entire building, still failing to find F hall. It ended at D. Whatever, it's not like I want to be in school anyway, I'll just skip it. Maybe try weed or something, see if I can actually get hi. I glance back to see the stoner I tripped over earlier has left, Damn it. Oh well, I dash into the library when I see the hall monitor is coming. Who knew schools had hall monitors? I thought that was just something they put in cartoons. I look over and see a podium with a sign in sheet, pretend to fill it out and walk over to the computers, might as well do something productive. Shit, they need a username and password. I move to the computer next to some guy with long hair and ask him to sign me in.

"I don't know your password," he states, not even glancing up from whatever he was doing on the computer. Personal passwords.

"Neither do I, just sign me in as you?"

"Try signing in as 'student' it was the account we all used last year and there was no password." It works so I move to a more private computer and set up a yahoo email account. I don't know what I'll use this for, face book? I'd have to keep it very basic according to Dad's rules from before about living under the radar. He may not be here now to enforce them but I still want to play it safe. I spend about an hour playing solitaire before an idea pops into my head. Opening up the internet, I type the phrase "John Connor" into Google, using quotes in front of John and behind Connor. Trying to figure this family out is on hell of a problem. "oh my god." the words escape from my mouth the second the first search result pops up, a news article about a bank robbery ending in an explosion. They tried to rob a bank and ended up blowing themselves up in the process. It says they got all employs and customers out and the only people to die were the family and some man who walked in. How the fuck does that work? I guess I'm not the only one hiding skeletons.

I reread the article a few times before I figure out that living with the Connors is probably not my best option. This article makes them sound crazy, what if they go cannibal on me in the middle of the night. I know I can't die but that doesn't mean I want them to eat my skin. They'd probably make me their main food, since my body will just keep replacing the missing parts. Yea, that sounds like a great existence. I need to find somewhere to get a new fake I.D. This is high school, it shouldn't be too hard to find someone who can hook me up. Plus it's L.A. even easier. I can be Veronica, like Veronica Mars, Meredith, like Mom. Petrelli, like Peter, and my dad. Or would that be too obvious. What if I can only find those shitty places that have to give you a preset name. What if I end up with a name like Gittle?

This is so not fair, I could end up named Gittle Mandarin just because my Dad had to go and work for a company that hunts people like me. I desperately try to blame my dad, or anyone else because I know it's really my fault; I'm different. If I were a character in a movie I know people would want my power, it really seems cool on the outside but it really just sucks.

The bell signaling the end of C Block rings and I slowly stand up, logging out of the ancient computer. What do I do now? Do I leave or attempt to find…Computer Applications? I am beginning to regret skipping. I've done it before but I always made sure it got excused, this is a new experience. Plus if I had only gone to history then I wouldn't have been able to search John's background and I wouldn't be debating this in my head. It's not as if I really am in any physical danger as is. Although if I have computer apps next then I probably would have looked it up anyway. No need to regret the past. I'll skip D block and try to find somewhere to get a fake ID. A good place where I can pick my name.

"Hey, get to class," I turn to see the librarian standing right behind me. It's a little weird but it's a guy librarian, I thought all librarians were old ladies, that's how it's always been in the past for me. This guy is middle aged though, weird.

"Um, I'm new here, can you point me to C1, for computer applications?" He sighs and tells me first right outside is C hall. I thank him and leave, heading in the direction of C hall, but when I enter I walk straight past C1 and outside, it's time to begin my hunt.

John Connor

"Blachoo," I sneeze, stepping into the locker room. No one even mutters "bless you" as I pull out my cell phone. Great now the devil's probably captured my soul. I broke into Mr. Davidson's room during passing period and stole my phone back. I don't think he'll notice. I change as quickly as possible and head out to the gym, standing straight in front of the bleachers. As people come out they do the same. Mr. Andresen is such a tight ass.

P.E. passes miserably as we run 12 laps around the gym, do a bazillion super mans and push-ups and play volleyball. I'm terrible at volleyball. I was picked last to be on any of the teams. I guess that's my own fault though, if I actually wanted to be involved and picked I could try to be pleasant towards the most common team captains but whatever. They're all preps and they all annoy me. Kaylee is a super athletic volleyball star, she hangs out with all the jocks and wears team shirts and athletic shorts everyday. Jacob is a preppy guy who happens to be good at athletics, same with Drew. Bailey just kicks ass at everything he does, it really pisses me off actually. It's like he was born with a volleyball and a guitar and textbooks. He is the best at everything. My team loses four games and I have no doubt that they all blame me, after all I just stood there and deflected balls that flew at my face. What if Cameron were in the class? She would pound people into the floor easily with one hit. That wouldn't really help her blend in any.

"Baum! Get your slow butt over here!" I hear Mr. Andresen call. Looking up, I see a man talking to my teacher, he looks around the class and I glance away. He reaches in he back waistband. Shit! He must be reaching for a gun, then his hand just rests on his hip behind him. They both call me over anyway. I hesitate but realize he probably wouldn't have wasted any time if he were a terminator so I slowly walk over.

"John Baum?" the unfamiliar man asks me. As Mr. Andresen walks away to flip out on some guy who was flinging rubber bands and the girls. Who does that after age five? Really?

"Yea?"

"I'm agent Pacitti and I'm looking for this girl, have you seen her?" He's holding a picture of Claire next to his FBI badge. What's she running from?

"No, she's hot though, can I have that picture?" I ask, trying to sound like another shit faced teenager. Hoping he won't connect the dots that I'm John Connor.

"Are you sure you haven't seen her? Her name is Claire Butler, does that name sound familiar?"

"Nope, not at all, I wish it did though, because like I said, she's hot," Give me the fucking picture already asshole.

"What about Claire Bennet? Does that name sound familiar either? Or Claire Gordon or Claire Petrelli?" Geez, how many aliases does she have? Of course I have about three times that much but I have reason.

"Are you positive you haven't seen her? She is very dangerous and we don't want her out on the streets where she can hurt people," he knows something I don't doesn't he? What the fuck did she do?

"No, I have never seen her before in my life!" I exclaim trying to sound pissed. "If I knew her do you think I would be wasting my time with her?" I nod my head towards the ugliest girl I see, Justy.

"If you see her, give me a call, my number is on the back," he says handing me Claire's…cheerleading? photo. I didn't know she was a cheerleader. As I begin walking back to the game I notice they are putting the poles away so I just keep walking, straight into the locker room. I grab my bag, stuff the picture in and head out to the place I told Claire to meet me at. Me and Mom wait twenty minutes before I go in to look for Claire. I couldn't find her, I even had her paged and still I could not find her. Where the hell is she? Did that FBI guy find her? I pull the picture out of my bag, I wasn't planning on telling Mom about this, but if Claire is missing I probably have to. If she spills her guts about us we are all in trouble. I stare down at the snapshot, once Mom sees this she is going to move us, again, unless Claire shows up. That bitch better show up because I like it here, but we can't have unwanted cops showing up at our doorstep looking for some ungrateful bitch. I stuff the picture back in my bag, if I don't hear from Claire by the end of school tomorrow I'll tell the, unless the FBI does first.


	4. Unfold the Present

**Disclaimer: John Connor is a trademark of the Terminator, Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles series, James Cameron, Orion, and TriStar. Claire Bennet is a trademark of NBC, Tim Kring, and Heroes. Any other recognized trademarks are property of their respective owners, I own nothing in this story.**

**becasue I think that the show should have touched on Claire's breakdown, other than the train incident she just seemed angry all the time**

**Claire is extremely hard to write, please forgive me. **

**Updates: Fridays at 8 because that was the timeslot in the final months, I was going to do Mondays at 8 because it was TSCC's original timeslot but since it is Heroes' new timeslot I will probably be watching Heroes.**

**When it comes back on in January.**

* * *

I'm not sure I've ever had an idea this bad before in my life. I need to establish some sort of social aura before completely demolishing it. God, everyone is going to think I'm a stoner now; stoners are the only ones to skip on their first day. Crap. Oh well, I wrote the note saying I got sick, maybe I can pass that image off the other students. Okay wtf am I going on about? I'm not that girl anymore, not anymore. I'm not some whining cheerleader who needs someone to fight her battles anymore. Sylar, sure made sure of that.

Claire let her head chin to her chest, remembering the day, just barely a month ago when she had been attacked, visibly flinching when she recalled her face hitting the wall and the events that followed. _Okay, no. I cannot think about this right now, I just can't, stop it. um, um, um, oh! Supernatural last night...um, it was, um awesome, and um...oh screw this._

She could fell herself let go and then grab on again, trying to force those memories out, like an embarrassing moment, you desperately want to forget but can't. Clearly, it visibly showed on her face because the second her mental barrier broke, all eyes were on her.

The scene just went like that, people noticed and even snickered but no one cared to help her, no one wanted to hear her sob story. No one wanted to get involved, they had there own problems to deal with, and those who were lucky enough to only know the good life were the ones snickering, a few years ago Claire would have been one of them. Her biggest problem would have been trying to make cheer squad or trying to get some the guy, two years later those would still be concerns but not her biggest, now, who know. Her biggest problem now, who knows, she has a ton.

Claire sat up, forced herself to leave her table, calmly walk to the bathroom, fix her make up and then to calmly pay for the coffee with the few dollars she had found in her jeans.

Glancing at her new $20 phone she cussed; school was ending in two minutes and she had told John she would meet him in front of the school as soon as class ended. Not only had it taken her at least half an hour to walk here but she also had no idea where she was. She really needed a car, a fancy one with a gps and everything.

Standing outside with the hot sun beating down on her she raised her hands to protect her face, feeling her cell phone vibrate in her pocket where she had re-placed it. She knew it would be Sarah or John without looking, but there was nothing special about that considering she hadn't given anyone the number. Still, her glance confirmed it was a text message from John asking her 'where r u?' she opened the reply message about ready to respond in correct grammar but stopped, what could she say? she closed the phone, sending the message to drafts.

"What am I going to do?" she muttered

She flinched back as whip of long brown hair hit her face and she hear the owner of the hair shout "Christopher, get me the goddamn pie! It's the most normal craving I've had and don't forget who did this to me!" The boy she was yelling at gave Claire an exasperated sigh as he dragged his very pregnant girlfriend and mouthed an apology. Claire was still caught on the word pie, she felt instantly hungry

"Crap." She muttered and started walking in the general direction she figured she had come from, she had no better plan.

"Where the hell is she?" Sarah Connor's voice echoed through the entire double story home. She was trying to stuff as many belongings she could into a few small bags. John's head lay in his hands, he should have expected this.

"We don't have to leave, Mom." John's hands dropped from his face.

"What if a machine got her, she would give us up in a heartbeat if she thought it could save her life, if we stay here we are dead!"

"And if we leave, we are just leaving her for dead. Could you live with that, knowing that you let and innocent girl die?"

"If it meant saving my son, if it meant saving the future then yes!" John had almost let himself believe they were done with all this crap, that she wanted to protect him because she loved him. He needed to stop being so naive. "Besides, it wouldn't be the first time I let someone die for you." she muttered in finish.

"Would it be the first time you let someone so young die? and what if she wasn't taken? She's 16! Be rational about this please.

Sarah Connor rounded on her son, John almost thought he saw a hint of fear in her face, but he knew better, Sarah was never afraid.

"Listen, all we need to do is track her cell phone, send Cameron to get her, it will be fine." John tried to urge her with his voice but he never seemed to be good at getting what he wanted with Sarah, she was just too stubborn.

"Alright she said, hesitating a moment, but not from here, I'm not risking you." John breathed a sigh of relief, he wasn't sure where his interest in this girl came from, she was just ordinary, so what if she was important in the future, every action he took changed the future at least a little, who's to say she's even important anymore? And that was how they found themselves hunching over an old computer in an old warehouse, Cameron holding the security officer at gunpoint, bullet hole in the security camera, thirty minutes later.

"37th street, John muttered to his mother and Cameron, didn't really want to give the guard any assistance in where to find them for when he called the cops on them, as they all knew he would. Although it was unlikely the guard would have noticed had he shouted it, probably too wrapped up in fear, but you never know.

"That's not far from here." Sarah said.

".48 Miles Southeast from here," Cameron informed, prompting the hasty exit made by John and Sarah, followed by Cameron stalking out, keeping the gun trained on the man's head until she reached the door.

Derek stood just beyond the door, he gave one glare in the direction of Cameron before pulling John into his pickup, while Sarah and Cameron entered their own vehicle. "What the fuck," John shouted, trying to jerk his arm from his uncle's grip, watching as his mother and protector sped away. Angrily he turned to face his uncle, "what. the. fuck," he demanded, voice low.

"Your mother told me to keep you safe, if that means I have to stay out of the battle and hold you here, so be it. I'm not going to let you get yourself killed, this didn't happen before, the consequences of this could be disastrous."

"How would you know if this happened before? You're what, eleven in this time period? Besides that when we first met you hated my guts, I really doubt you and me did the whole sharing and caring thing in the future."

"No, but my brother absolutely adored you, he told me everything he knew about you, which I'm starting to think is everything all together, It was really annoying."

"Doesn't mean I would tell him my life story."

"If it concerned Claire you probably would have."

"You know Claire?" why didn't he say anything before?

"She and Kyle used to hook up." but she's...16-5, 11!

"Cougar?"

"What?"

"She's soo old for him," I quickly explain.

"That's the thing, she looks exactly the same as she does ten years from now. "

"We only have ten years until Judgment day, less, but no, she dropped off the radar in 2020, I think, she came to the past then."

"Did I send her?" This is just getting old now.

"Doubt it, she was too valuable, she was one of the best fighters and always came back relatively undamaged."

The sharp piercing sound of tires squealing on the pavement sent Claire's as well as many other's heads snapping up, Claire flinched when she saw the driver, flinched even greater when she took in the angry expression on the woman's face. "Great," she mumbled, resisting the urge to just turn and run or to scream .

As the car pulled a long the sidewalk, Claire tried to force her face into a strong facade, so she wouldn't flinch or show any emotion. Sarah Connor angrily stormed out of the car while Cameron stood calmly on her side of the car, Sarah's harsh grip instantly forming around Claire's forearm, not that it mattered since she didn't feel pain. "Get in the car," Sarah hissed, earning a few too many curious' passerbys stares. Claire hesitated.

"Excuse me, is she bothering you," a man stopped standing firmly by Claire's side, Claire almost laughed when she realized what was going on. Sarah apparently didn't find the situation as funny.

"She's my daughter," she practically spit in the poor man's face, he was only trying to help. A small tug on her arm made her realize she had to play the part of a rebellious daughter.

"God, you are not my mother," she spat, "My mother's dead, your just the woman Daddy's screwing." She was yanked into the car at this point, she crossed her arms in the back seat as  
Sarah berated the man. Cameron sat in the front passenger seat

"You should not have left, if you were attacked we could not have helped you and we would end up having to leave."

"How'd you even find me?"

"Your cell phone has a gps unit in it with radius of .5 miles, all we had to do was access the account number."

"How'd you do that? I had this phone before I met you, we aren't even on the same account."

Sarah re enters the vehicle and is just a fuming silent, the calm before the storm.

"I'm sorry I left school Sarah, I would have come back but..."

"Shut up." Her voice is cold and piercing, the only audible thing for the entire drive back is Sarah's heavy, angry breaths as well as Cameron's call to the man Derek, telling him that all is okay and they can go back home.

When the car finally pulled into the driveway, Claire is practically dragged from the car, giving her an eerie sense of deja vu. The second all three of the car occupants have set foot in the front door they are met by the other two house occupants. John giving Claire a disgusted disregardful look.

"How could you even think that leaving school was a good idea, you could have at least told us you left, instead of leaving all to the imagination. We thought a terminator had caught you, a terminator could have caught you! You know what that would mean?"

"No, I don't know what that means, my life was so simple until last week, how would I know what would happen? really? I can't wrap my mind around all this shit! I'm just a cheerleader." She exclaimed, whipping her head around, hissing the last sentence in Sarah's face, not noticing the vast change in John's expression. She sighed, "Am I still saying here, or have I fucked that up too?" her voice soft, as none should be after shouting.

"We only have two options here, kill you so you don't share our secret, or keep you here, and I really don't want to have the blood of a teenager on my hands." Sarah's voiced mirrored her's in calmness but had the strong edge that showed just how forced it was.

Claire closed her eyes in calmness, "You have to understand why I left, you're supposedly some great terrorists, I trusted John because he looks like my best friend, and I realized how bad that was to do, I was afraid, you have to know what that feels like." she turned on her heel and walked up the stairs to her bedroom.

"We need another bed," Cameron announced, misinterpretting their so-not-the-time expressions as ones of confusion. "To avert suspicion, there is another person living in this house, if people came over to visit they may wonder where she sleeps, we should get another bed." Cameron "clarified."

Meanwhile, John's head was spinning, trying to put together the puzzle of Claire, with the new information of her being from the future, it all suddenly dawned on him. "Great job, Mom," he muttered sarcastically turning to face said mother. Before following Claire's track that had been mad moments ago. Standing in her doorway, he took in her disheveled appearance, her hair was messed and frizzy from the wind, there were faint black streaks down her face and black goop smudged beneath and on the outer corner's of her eyes.

"What?" she snapped, turning her gave from the computer. "Do I have something in my teeth or do you just have a fascination with my utter beauty?" she rolled her eyes as the last two words rolled from her tongue.

John moved over to sit on the edge of Cameron's bead, twirling the pink ribbons of her comforter between his fingers and taking in the MySpace homepage displayed on the monitor of Cameron's computer. "Clear your history after you're done, so Mom doesn't find out you went on MySpace, you should always do that you know? People are nosy." John remember the first time he had to do that, of course there were still ways to find out what websites were visited but he doubted Sarah knew how.

"Thanks," she said, not sarcastic, she really was thankful but he doubted she cared all that much.

"You know the FBI is looking for you right?" she was taken aback.

"Are you serious? Why would they be looking for me? How do you even know they are looking for me?" Her thoughts played out obviously across her forehead, she probably was terrible at poker.

"A man from the FBI came to school and asked me about you," he paused removing the photograph the man had given him from the pocket where he had relocated it while waiting for Sarah's return, handing it to Claire.

"They came to me, they knew I knew you, you have to explain that to me, because if you don't then I have to leave town and I really don't want to have to do that."

"I don't know," she stared at the photograph, looking at her overly happy expression, her life had been so easy at the time. "But this means that I have to leave, could you help me leave without getting shot?" she glanced hopeful eyes up. "I really don't want to get shot."

"Depends, why is the FBI looking for you?"

"I'm not your typical sixteen year old girl, my dad did a lot to piss off the government, kidnapping people, myself included, maybe they want to question me on his whereabouts, I don't really know honestly." Because I can heal.

"What are your skeletons Claire?" she sat there silent, before he finally asked the question that was really on his mind. "Who did you kill Claire?" watching her face for some sort of reaction.

So, sorry I just realized how bad I sped up the timeline of heroes, this takes place in Volume Three of Heroes yet Claire is only 16(but heroes fucked up as well, she is a year older than she should be based off of season one).

So this is a pretty short chapter, but I was afraid if I kept going I wouldn't have any meat for next chapter, which I am about to start writing. I hope you like it, because I am pretty much Claire's opposite so she is hard to write, John on the other hand is pretty easy to write but who doesn't like a challenge?

Hints of this chapter are based off the songs Ugly (Exies) and Running Up that Hill (Placebo, not the original but I really think the vibe of Placebo is good for this story).

Summer Glau (Cameron/Alllison Young) in Dollhouse tonight.


	5. Unfold the Screwed

**Disclaimer: John Connor is a trademark of the Terminator, Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles series, James Cameron, Orion, and TriStar. Claire Bennet is a trademark of NBC, Tim Kring, and Heroes. Any other recognized trademarks are property of their respective owners, I own nothing in this story.**

"Who did you kill, Claire?" he asked, steadily and calmly, it really shook Claire the way he seemed to be -so uncaring about death.

"What? I don't get what you're saying."

"This might be a better question then; what year are you from?"

"um…I was born in '92." She dragged the statement out in confusion.

"Don't lie to me, I practically control your future."

"Is that some sort of threat?" she recoiled, eyes turned up, one open the other fluttering closed, it kind of creeped John out.

Hestiation preluded his response, "It's supposed to be a warning, you have to tell me the truth, who sent you?"

"What the hell? No one sent me, I seem to recall being kidnapped in the first place, you're acting as if it was all part of my master plan." Her facade was slipping, she was proving herself to be more than just a cheerleader, whether she wanted to or not. the only noise audible in the room was Claire's exhausted, frustrated sigh. "Why do you even think I'm from the future anyway?" inquiring hazel eyes met annoyed blue ones.

"Derek told me," his voice tight with tangible frustration at her avoidance of the answers, it wasn't as if this hadn't happened before, but most _humans_ gave in after him repeating himself once, he never really had to try before. He almost chuckled as thoughts danced across Claire's face, not something he had seen in Derek before, not something he though was a future survival trait. Confusion embedding itself in the core of his mind as he realized she had just figured the whole thing out and was clearly not going to tell him.

"I'm not from the future." She just out right declared it, nothing stood behind her words to convince John but he did realize he was fighting a losing battle, she wasn't going to give up anymore information.

"We'll see." were the last audible words of the conversation, spoken as John walked out barely catching the roll of her eyes as he turned back hopeful orbs.

Claire sighed, "this has been such a very long day," she barely spoke, her head falling into awaiting palms, creating a curtain of blonde hair to surround her deep olive complexion, she forced he head to face the monitor again and resumed signing up for the MySpace account, filling her name in as "Ashley Love." Ignoring the message from Tom she dragged the cursor hovering over the search box, punching in the name "Claire Bennet." She slightly wondered in the back of her mind why she had never deleted this page, all the cool kids used FaceBook, but thankful she hadn't, also thankful she had left her photos public. She selected the picture immediately following Jackie's memorial/funeral photo. It had been taken just weeks before her house had blown up and it's main focus was her and Zach, but in the back corner of the photo she noticed, not for the first time, a girl staring intently at Zach. The first time she had noticed this it cracked her up and she felt sorry for the girl because Zach was gay but now it scared her, the girl in the photo was Cameron, she knew it. This day is just full of suprises.

Claire's mind was in a whirlwind, her train of thought had collisions. He main wonder was why Cameron had waited so long to pick her up; if that really was Cameron then why hadn't she take Claire the first moment she saw her, if she was so important then why risk her getting terminated? Why did Zach pre-oh god, the haitian. She brought her cursor the print button and watched as the picture landed warm on the tray. She didn't know how she was going to do this but she had to do something. Folding the paper in half she stuffed in her pocket and walked out the living room, and then the kitchen where she found Zach-no John, Zach didn't exist anymore, as much as she hated to admit it, all he was was now just a memory.

"What would happen if your picture was on the internet?"

"I thought you googled me, you should know that it is."

"Okay, then what would happen if your picture was on the internet with your alias as a tag, not John Connor." She was working really hard not to stutter; she hated being in this position.

"We'd have to move and get new aliases, don't tell me you put my picture, or even your own up on MySpace, because I am really sick of moving, and the guy who used to do our IDs, he was really good, and now he's dead, so we wouldn't be able to get good fake IDs, that's also why your ID is a piece of shit," he added, almost as if he thought she might find the information interesting or useful.

"But if it was an old alias nothing would happen?"

"I don't think so, is this about me or you, because I have never put my picture up on the internet, I don't think I've ever even had a picture of myself."

"Not even if someone tried to take a picture of you?"

"Riley had taken pictures of me and her but I don't think any of them are on the internet." Whose Riley? "Seriously though, what is this all about?"

"Um, after my grand screw up I am just trying to get familiar with all the rules, I really don't want this happening again." The statement is followed by a huge grin.

"You're a terrible liar, seriously, you have to tell me."

"I'm a terrible liar? I wasn't lying, and besides I have been keeping pretty intense secrets for the past three years, I would think I can lie." Her voice was dangerously raised

"Sure, you can." His voiced is laced with baby sarcasm and nonchalance, throwing Claire into a fit of laughter as Sarah enters the room, her ice glare nearly burning right through Claire's head, she is definately not the forgive and forget type, her anger just seems to be getting worse, while she seems to be better and better at containing it.

"Why are lying, what kind of secrets are you keeping?" Sarah's voice practically oozed venom as she stood behind her son, while he stepped away, clearly in discomfort being too close to his mother, probably the only thing he has in common with other kids his age.

"Don't pull that crap on me, you have the biggest, deadliest secret I have ever heard," her voice resounded, matching venom almost equal to Sarah's as she stormed out of the room onto the back porch, slamming the sliding glass door behind her, causing the frame to rattle.

"What the hell was that all about John?" some of her anger had died down with Claire's exit but most of it was just redirected. "Is she putting us in danger, I swear to God we will just leave her if she continues on this teenage rebellion!"

"It's nothing Mom, you're just forgetting that until now she has had a normal teenage existence, she's not used to this type of pressure," John didn't know why he was defending her while he accused her as well, John Connor was pretty complex.

"Yea well she had better figure this out soon, I'm not risking anyone, I'm not risking anyone for some bitchy blonde who thinks she can do whatever she likes." John knew he was too old to get offended by comments like that, especially when they came atleast once a day but it still felt like a slap in the face to hear his mother, the one person who he cared about more than any other act like his existence as a person meant nothing to her.

"Yeah well whatever." He followed Claire's suit and stormed out, only he went in the direction of his uncle's pick up, planning to just escape for a few hours, see Riley but stopped short when he saw his uncle leaning against the passenger door talking on his cell phone, quickly hanging up upon seeing John.

"Where you going?" the voice called as John tried to weave his way around the truck, down the driveway.

"You really shouldn't be standing out in the open like this, you are still a fugitive."

"Who isn't?" John rolled his eyes.

"Claire isn't, Riley isn't, you know they both would have had normal lives but we fucked that up for them, Claire is stuck with us, and someday some machine will catch up with us and Riley is either going to see it all or get killed because of it. God, you have no idea how much I wish I could go back and prevent myself from ever getting close to Riley. You should probably get out of the relationship you have going with that Australian chick while you still have the chance."

"I don't know what you're talking about John." Sure you don't, John recalled the first time he had seen her, John had been hanging out with Riley at the pier, they were making fun of tourists, John felt kind of funny doing it because he hadn't been in L.A. long enough to really not consider himself a tourist, but Riley said he would get over it, so he went with it. The woman had taken a photo of him, turning her camera in a new direction everytime he looked up, but everytime he looked down her camera was trained on him. It had shocked him to see her with her tongue down his uncle's throat a week or so later, he had hoped it was just sex but he wasn't blind to the love in his eyes, despite being a boy he could tell that he loved her, her gaze was a bit more gaurded, he saw definate lust in it but maybe their was love there too, he really just didn't know.

Derek fumbled with his keys, "Anyways, I left my cell phone in your truck," he stepped forward, waiting for Derek to step out of his way, once he did and John had retrieved his phone, he stepped back, fumbling through received messages, noting there was only one. 'hey, im bored, wanna get coffee?' glancing down at his watch and the time he receieved the text he realized that window had already passed, and he typed his reply, 'sorry, been really busy all day, how about tomorrow?" he pressed send, hoping she would say yes, this place was always madness and he really didn't want to have to deal wit anymore of it. Stuffing his phone in his pocket, he returned his gaze to his uncle.

"Oh yea, Claire's not from the future."

This spiked Derek's interest, "How do you know?"

"She told me."

"Dammit John," he muttered, shoving his keys into the depths of his pockets, "where is she?"

"Back yard, last I checked," he stormed back into the house, straight to the sliding glass door, throwing it open, as hard as possible with a sliding door he pulled her back in she yelped in surprised.

"Deja vu." Her soft voice muttered, following the high pitched squeal of shock as he gripped her arm tighter, both Sarah and Cameron came rushing in at this sound.

"What year are you from?" He demanded pulling a gun on her, pointing it in between her eyes, after moving it from where the chip would be, if she had one, while she struggled to stand against the wall.

"What the hell man? 2009, I don't know, 1992, I don't know what you mean?" She was scared, again not a futuristic trait.

"Tell the truth he growled," John could tell he would shoot her if she didn't say anything, turning a worried glance towards her.

"I am!" She shrieked, John saw Derek's grip tighten.

"No!" he shouted, shoving his uncle as a bang rang out, it wasn't loud, especially not to John's trained ears but it still shocked him and she watch as Claire fell, the bullet had missed her head but killed her upon impact none the less.

"Fuck." Sarah was the first to speak.


	6. Unfold the Exposed

**ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS NEED APPLY.**

"The hell did you do that for?" Sarah turned and rounded on Derek. "Huh, how the hell are we gonna clean this up?" her voice was tight and angry. She barely glances at the blonde slumped against the wall, blood starting to seep out of the body and stain the green v neck. "She was going to school! People know she exists Derek!" John knows Sarah has seen and let people die before but the way it almost seems as if she doesn't even care that she's gone almost scares him, he knows better than to really be concerned.

"Don't tell me you actually care, you almost did it yourself, besides, if you knew what this girl had done, you would have done the exact same thing, trust me," again, the way Derek seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation almost worried John, but it didn't.

"Well I don't, so why don't you enlighten us future-man, what did this girl do that was so terrible the warrants her being shot?"

"Sarah," Cameron called out.

"What?" Sarah rounded on the so called girl, redirecting her anger at Derek towards, perhaps, a more appropriate target.

"Claire Bennet has regained a pulse."

"What?" John's voice came appalled as he dropped to his knees next to her body, his fingers on his neck as Sarah spoke as well.

"How is that even possible?" Sarah's eyes followed her son's to the blonde on the floor, widening as the mentioned blonde began to cough violently, spewing blood all over her son. Fingers turning white in their tight grip on John's shirt as she tried to hoist herself up. Three guns trained on her.

"She's a machine?" Sarah asked, just putting it out there asking either Derek or Cameron, who knows?

"I didn't think so, she didn't seem the type. Bitchy, perfect, mechanical," his eyes drifted towards the confirmed machine. "The damn thing is efficient though.

"Will you shut- up?" Claire's voice rang out redirect all attention to herself, voice choked. "Please, I'm not one of them." She paused as their grips tightened on the guns, she spit, red goo covered the hard metal that did crunch against the ground, sound at impact softened by the splatter her blood made.

Sarah snorted at this, "What are you then?"

"Human, different, an alien, I don't really know actually." No one spoke for a moment and Claire took this as her cue to continue on, "I heal, I don't know what else you want me to say here," she took a moment to smile, face falling once again as she took another look at the guns trained at her head. Another shot was heard this time hitting her arm, obviously from Derek again although Sarah looked like she was about to take the third. "Dammit stop shooting me!" she exclaimed, pulling her shirt sleeve up to reveal the wound, shaking her arm then reaching it then when that failed to produce a bullet she spread the skin and pulled it out with her fingers, frowning at it's odd shape then lifted her arm to show them the skin cells healing.

"Right, why should we believe that?" Derek snorted.

"What, do you want to watch me cut out my heart and have a new one grow back, should we go to the airport so I can walk through the metal detector?" Claire's generally pale face was now red, anger or fear, either one or maybe both but neither proved itself more obvious.

"Claire Bennet is telling the truth," Cameron intervened as Derek moved the gun to Claire's forehead. In the future, there is a secret group, John Connor, barely even knows about, there are certain people with abilities, all belonging to this group, every important assignment has at least one of these people. Claire Bennet and Daniel Parker were sent on a very important mission. Parker has telekinesis. Claire Bennet and Daniel Parker helped lead a Century breakout, rescuing Kyle Reese, who saved John."

"If John barely even knows about them, how do you know so much?"

"I don't, only what Future John knows."

"What else do you know about me?" Claire asked, amazed.

"Nothing, I didn't even know your ability until today."

"I think you should go," Sarah spoke quiet, she hadn't been a believer in any of this nonsense and now. It used to be simple, people lived and died, time worked like a river but then she had met Kyle Reese and science changed people, that's all it was though, science, but now, people could be born different, it just wasn't the way her world worked.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't come back," Sarah spoke with a tight voice.

"Claire Bennet won't make it out there on her own, eventually a terminator will come back with her as it's primary target, just as one did Martin Bedell. She will not make it on her own." Damn the machines and their damn efficiency and determination to get their missions accomplished.

"Clearly she will," Derek spoke with such finality he could have almost passed for a mother.

"It's fine, I'll go." She paused, reaching into her jeans pocket and removing a folded piece of paper before going to the stairs, "I need my jacket and money," she continued up the stairs.

"Here," Sarah called, a wad of cash in her hands, probably desperate to forget this whole ordeal.

"I still need a jacket, I mean I need to hide these holes in my shirt, I know this is L.A and all but that doesn't mean people won't ask questions, just less, I think, this is only my what fourth day here?" she was hanging off the stair well, turning around towards her jacket, disappearing.

Against the wall, John banged the back of his head on the green paint, frustration at the whole ordeal. He, like Sarah, wasn't a believer, but only because he had never taken the time to consider it, all he had thought about most his life was his hate for his mother. He supposed he had to believe now, it really wasn't that hard. He had to be a predestined believer, his father was after all from the future. He was older than his father, that had to make it easier, right?

Claire walked down the stairs, pulling her long blonde hair from the collar of the leather jacket where it had been previously trapped. John watched as she walked straight out the door, overcome by an odd sense of déjà vu

"Guess your theory was wrong," John turned to Derek, "I need a breath," Dammit, he did not just say that oh-so clichéd line. "Or a drink," he tried to recover. "I'm going out with Riley."

"Cameron will go with you," Sarah turned, her eyes evidence of a space out, Riley's name had brought her out of.

"Mom, it's just to Riley's, my creepy sister coming along will creep her out." seriously, he had grown up around this, he was more than capable of getting himself out of any of her "sticky situation."

"Are you sure that such a bad thing, maybe scare her off, she'd be better off."

"No," he rolled his eyes in an exaggerated gesture.

"Fine, but you can only stay two hours and you can't go anywhere else."

"Whatever." John spoke, heading up the stairs to retrieve his cell phone from his jacket pocket, so he could ask Riley if he could come over, although he knew she would say yes, after all she was never busy. Slipping the fancy alias phone between his fingers he frowned, noticing a picture laying on his comforter. Crease lines went right through his face but he was positive it was him in the picture, as well as Claire and Cameron. "Holy shit, I do not need this right now."

He walked out the door and just started walking, in the general direction of Riley's house but still, only walking. He realized he made a wrong turn somewhere along the line when he was pulled out of his thoughts by a vibrating phone. Two messages waited, one from Riley confirming he could come over, the other, the most recent from Claire with one message "turn around" and he did.

"Hey," Claire jogged to catch up to him.

"What do you want?"

"I'll explain later, where are you going?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"You saw the picture right?" he nodded, "then let me explain later, I've been shot, I need to recover."

"I'm going to my girlfriend's"

"And I am going with you, come on."

They walked, he was really bored though, going crazy, she tried to lead the way but took many, many wrong turns. Finally he gave into his boredom and she was forced to tell him the story of why she had tracked him down. The Haitian, he was skeptical but she offered to show him the tape they had made last time they had this conversation, after his date of course. But it was all falling into place, she was a cheerleader, which reminded him of the photo, but she had seen it, she could be lying. They arrived at Riley's and he desperately tried to convince her not to come, that might not be perceived in the right way. She wouldn't back down though, damn stubbornness.

"Claire Bennet, Zachary Carlson you are both under arrest for using false identities." Claire whipped her head around in shock while John just started running, he hit the fence before being captured, he noticed a list of other charges being read to Claire. "That your girlfriend? It's her fault you even got caught, you lead us to her and that brought us on your trail, now kid, who are you?"

"Fuck you man," John turned to spit at his shoes, but found it a useless task as he hit the ground, tripping at being forced in the direction he didn't want to go in. He took the one opportunity he had and tried to run again, not trying to escape so much as get rid of his cell phone, with his mother's number. As he ran he used his right hand already in the cuffs to shake his phone from his jeans and subtly drop it, continuing to run but soon found himself with a feeling of déjà vu as his face collided with the pavement.


	7. Unfold the Stupid Plans

He should be anywhere but here. John wasn't much of a sports fan but he would much rather be sitting at home watching the some sort of football or basketball than where he was now. At the police station, staring down a pudgy old man. They'd been at it for two freaking hours, just trying to win a staring contest to end all staring contests. The cop had dragged him in there and refused to do anything. It wasn't as if John felt wrongly accused because he knew that wasn't the case, but he knew there was something that wasn't entirely right about the situation. The man had fake red hair, it wasn't fooling anyone though. John wondered what kind of respectable male would dye their own hair red, it just didn't seem normal.

Out of boredom more than anything else , John sighed and leaned as far back as the stiff chair and metal handcuffs allowed for, rubbing his chaffing wrists, as discretely as possible. He crossed his eyes, rolling them around in an attempt to end the damn thing. When the cop failed to respond he made as many odd faces as possible, sighing in defeat. The man, Detective Darling, -wow, intimidating name, leaned over the table, offering, what John was sure was, his most threatening face. Hmph, scary, not.

"So, you going to tell me who you really are now?" He spoke in that way that just showed he thought he was superior to everyone else. The first time he had asked this, John hadn't know what to say; if he used his current alias it would only be a matter of time before the caught up to his mother and identified them for real, same with any of his past aliases, after awhile he just began using the name they had used upon his arrest.

"Zachary. Christopher. Carlson." He prayed that he hadn't taken a gap in using the alias middle name Christopher in Texas, he really hoped to God he had kept some consistency.

"You want to know how I know that isn't true?" John just raised his eyebrows, "The man who did your false passport, Enrique Salceda, turned up murdered in a ditch sometime last year, his _distraught _family handed over part of his client list, only listing aliases for identification. September 17th 2006, he had two clients, Emily and Zachary Carlson. Three days later, Emily applied for a job at the Burnt Toast Diner in Midland , her son Zachary enrolled in Union Wells High School in Odessa, Texas." Even this cop knew about an five month gap in his memory. "January of 2007, your landlord intended on suing you for unpaid rent but found that you and your mother were missing. Your friend in there, Bennet, disappeared in November of the previous year."

"Okay, that's all great but Zach and Emily aren't exactly uncommon names, coincidence." John watched as Detective Darling fished around the folder on the table, pulling out a photograph, no, a security camera still, of him."

"This was taken from a Primatech Paper security tape, the day of their FBI raid." FBI raid? John thanked his lucky stars that no one of the FBI paid too close attention to the tapes.

"I wasn't denying that I was the guy from Texas, just that I was the one got the fake ID." Even though John thought his argument was solid, the detective obviously didn't care he was absolutely convinced of John's guilt. Fake ID didn't even seem that bad, he barely knew anyone who didn't have one. "You can't hold me accountable just because some teenager wanted to get into a bar and ended up using my name to do it."

"Why would his mother need a fake ID as well?" Darling had that irritating smug look on his wrinkled face that all cops had when they thought they had someone trapped.

Recognizing anything he said would just dig him into even deeper shit, John replied with only a smirk, an out of place smirk, but it was his best defense. He couldn't help it. He sighed, there was a lot of "evidence" already against him, sure most of it could be written off as a coincidence, nothing could be used to hold him, but it was semi-convincing, they would just keep digging, and eventually they would find something that could be used to hold him and arrest him, probably as an adult as well, seeing as technically his 24th birthday has just passed. This was just fanfreakingtastic! Well this just absolutely sucks.

"So why were you looking for Claire," John asked recalling that the FBI was interested in her, this was small compared to her list of "charges."

"That's confidential."

"I'm sure it is," the sarcasm flooding out his voice was misleading seeing as the statement really wasn't sarcastic. He knew that his new "friend's" charges would be confidential.

"It is." Darling assured. Upon arrest both Claire and John had been in the backseat of the same car, he wasn't sure if that was procedure, it was never like that on TV, and when they had taken him in after catching his mom when he was a kid they had been in different cars. Only one car had come and picked them up though, two officers, one car. Instantly John's mind went to Two Girls One Cup and he threw up a little in his mouth. Morris had been really excited the time he showed it to him, he shuddered visibly at the memory. John wasn't sure which one of them was weird, Morris for really enjoying it or John actually throwing up, even if it was just a little. It had really changed their relationship though. Leaning back again, John clicked his tongue, doing anything he could think of to annoy the detective, anything he could to just get out of the damn room. He never really thought himself claustrophobic before but now he was starting to rethink that a bit. He could tell it was working when he was led out to the one holding block, where they kept people before transferring them to jail or where they kept the prisoners they could only hold overnight, John took this as a good sign. As he enter the closet sized room he saw Claire being led out, seeing him she gave a small smile before being jerked along by another officer or detective or whoever. Sighing he moved over to the long block of cement(?) along the far wall, with some sort of pillow, if it could even be called that. What kind of police station is this anyways? It's LA isn't the crime right high enough for multiple holding blocks, this is perfect. Sighing he sat against it, having denied his phone call earlier, not sure of who to call, things just were not going his way.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed slamming his fist into the wall next to him, recalling his hand immediately in pain. "Mother…" he muttered, rubbing his hand against the soon to form, self-inflicted bruise. Ha, he had "hurt himself" after years of frowning upon the very idea of self-inflicted wounds and teen cutting, he was using the term very loosely on himself though, not even close to the same thing. Trying to adjust the so-called pillow behind him he fell asleep, this had been such a long day and he was just so tired.

After her own ridiculous questioning session Claire entered her new home, until Nathan could send someone to pick her up. Sighing as she so John fast asleep she sunk down to the floor in the farthest away corner. It was apparent that the cops here had no idea why she was being held and were just grasping at straws for reasons to hold her with the whole fake ID thing. She hated Nathan for what he had done, forced them all into hiding, she hated her damn free pass too. All she wanted was to be as normal as possible with her ability. Nathan was taking everything from her. She was startled to realize that she had begun crying somewhere along the line,.

"Pull yourself together," she muttered, wiping her jacket sleeve across her face. This is not that big of a deal, it's not as if you live in some third world country with no food, education, or anything. You have things other girls could only dream about, designer clothes and perfume. You buy your make up at fucking Sephora and don't have to pay one cent for any of it. Crap, John was starting to wake up. Claire frantically tried to hide any clues to the fact she was hiding, panic at nothing filling her up.

"You want the so called bed?" John asked, weariness the main factor in his voice.

"I'm not sure that would be an improvement," Claire gestured to the -concreteness of the bed.

He smiled, for whatever reason his smile at in this situation really pissed her off. "You at least want the pillow?" She looked up at him, trying to decide. It would be kind of rude to take the only semi decent thing in the room. She really didn't get the chance to decide though because soon the pillow came flying in her direction. She frowned.\

"You know, one of my old teachers always made us smile before taking a test, he said it released stress, you should try it, you know?"

"Okay doctor Phil." Claire released a quick , tight smile.

"Your choice," he raised his eyebrows for a quick moment, clearly annoyed at her outright refusal to accept his advice. He resigned.

After an awkward pause, John resisted commenting about a gay baby being born, and instead asked something that had been bothering him in the back of his mind. "Do you want to explain to me how you ended up leading them to me?"

"What?"

"When we were arrested or whatever, the cop told me that it was your fault that they found me, that you lead me, or that I lead them to you and that lead them to me, something weird."

"I don't know." she rolled her head to face him, apparently she had gotten tired of the high and mighty cold bitch act. "I really don't know how they even knew I was in LA."

"What do they want you for?"

"It's complicated."

"I get that Claire, but I really do need to know."

"Um, my biological father is trying to round up people like me, with, you know, abilities, and put us in government facilities so that we won't be a danger or something stupid like that, at least that's what he told me. He gave me a free pass, as long as I didn't do anything to upset their program they wouldn't come after me, but um, my other father, the one who adopted me, wanted to make sure they couldn't take me, after I started working against them, to help people like me get away, so he hid me. I guess they found out that they couldn't control me like that." She followed it up with a short snort.

"That's really kind of weird."

"Yea, so someone from that little organization in the government is coming to pick me up, but seeing as they work out of DC or New York or someone down there it might take awhile. I'm not sure if they will take me to my father or put me in their facility."

"Unless we get out."

"How, do you have very much experience with this kind of break out." she rolled her eyes at the very thought.

"Not too much. But you know who I am, we should be able to pull this off." He paused for a moment trying to come up with a plan on the spot. "I haven't made the famed one phone call yet, so when I do that we can get out."

"Great plan." she muttered, "you really thought that one all the way through didn't you?" Despite her negative comment John stood and pressed his face against the window and spotted a guard.

"Say you have to use the bathroom or something " he turned to Claire Before pounding on the door, causing Claire to wince. She stood up never the less. The guard turned and acknowledged them as he was passing by.

"Hey, you," Claire shouted, "Hey, I know you have some sort of thing against bathrooms and specific times or whatever but I'm pregnant man!" she shouted, at John's lightly amused face, she shrugged, "Please!" To John's relief he opened the door, the last thing he would remember doing that day, as John jumped him, several other guards came rushing to the door and John knew the chances of this working were extremely slim , no, nonexistent.

"Pretend he was harassing you," he whispered to Claire's shocked figure, "like sexually or something." He backed up against the far wall, dragging Claire's reluctant form with him, shouting his false claims at the guard that took that as enough reason to assault John. Claire screamed, still trying to figure out what was going, or so John thought.

"Please stop it, that guy, he was trying to feel me up, please," she was now trying to produce as many fake tears as possible, "Please, just let me call my family, please, I haven't seen them in a year, please," she was smiling on the inside as the female guard led her out of the room, clearly feeling sympathy for the "poor child."

The woman's grip was tight on Claire's arm as she struggled to pull out handcuffs, to be safe, "Are you okay?"

"No, please, let me call my dad."

"It's okay." Claire was extremely grateful for the lack of communication going around the police station.

Upon reaching the telephone and having the chance to dial, Claire promptly put in Peter's number, sighing when he didn't pick up, she figured he wouldn't, he was a bit of a fugitive at the moment.

"My dad didn't answer, can I call my mom?" This is not gonna work, the next number she put in was West's, she wasn't sure how this would work exactly, she would rather call Hiro but since she didn't know his number she settled.

"Hello?"

"Hey West? it's Claire."

"Claire? Why are you calling?"

"um, I was arrested, I'm in LA, could you come down here? Or have my Dad come down here? I tried him first but he didn't answer."

"I'm not sure."

"Please, I really need your help, and trust me I wouldn't be asking if it really were not important" she was not above begging if it came down to it.

"I guess." She thanked him, as well as God, that he agreed and gave him the information.

"I thought you said you were calling your mother," Claire turned to face, Officer…Alley, coming up with a quick lie.

"I did, my half brother answered instead." That seemed to satisfy the nosey officer.

When she saw John again she grimaced at the large, green bruise on his left cheek, ouch. "I guess that's what you get when you have such poorly devised plans." She didn't speak until the door behind her closed and even then she was really soft spoken.

"You didn't even have a plan." He rolled his eyes.

"I do know, I called my eh, friend, he can fly. He'll come."

"And then what, they're never going to let someone that isn't your father's men take you."

"I was thinking he could fly in and take us or something."

"And does he know your plan?" John raised a pointed eyebrow at her.

"Not exactly."

"What does he know?"

"Just that I'm in jail here," shit.

"Great job." He sighed, rolling his head to the side, he didn't know how to get out of here.

"Hey!" she turned cold, "they are only holding you overnight, then you get to go wherever. Me though, they are holding me until my bio father can be bothered to send someone to pick me up then I get dragged off, don't complain to me, please."

"Wait, I just thought of something, it requires patience but it's the best we got. "

"Go on."

"Legally, Sarah Baum is your guardian, she'll just check you out on insufficient evidentiary support."

"That won't work, they do have evidentiary support or whatever and they know she's not my guardian, and she hates me."

"Do you have any shape shifter friends?"

"I wish."

"Ok, I have a sort of idea."

"Hope this is better than the last," Claire remarked dryly before he went into detail describing his great plan. "That sounds like something right out of a movie or something."

"Your point?"

"It'll never work!"

"Why not?"

"It just, it just won't."

"You can't even come up with one reason why it won't work." He was full on grinning. She rolled her eyes.

"You know my accusation might cost that guy his job." Claire ventured out, after several moments of silence.

"They'll have to investigate."

"Still… I feel bad about it, is that weird?"

"Not really, it might be weird if you didn't though. " John really, really was uncomfortable in this situation, it was just so- chick-flicky.

"The other officers will never look at him the same way again, there was something like this on Degrassi and even though the guy was proven innocent and the girl outright admitted it, lots of people still accused him of being a pervert. He even temporarily left work and his wife left him briefly because of the rumors."

John, who didn't even know what Degrassi was just sat there confused, not sure exactly what to say he didn't say anything. They both fell asleep shortly after that, John laying back on the cement bed and Claire leaning on the pillow against the wall.

"Carlson," a Hispanic man called out, holding the door open a tiny bit, John responded to his former alias by perking his head up. "Free to go," thank god, Claire turned, giving him a faint smile.

"See ya." she muttered as John left the room. The guard lead him down the hall and out to the main room, where he flinched against the ultra bright lights in the room, leaving the station after a quick scan for the boy called West.

"Mom's gonna kill me," he muttered before leaning against wall, waiting for his friend's savior to arrive.


	8. Unfold the Depth

John tapped his foot against the pavement, swinging his hand back and forth onto the rough, concrete wall, creating a smooth, rhythmic motion. He had been released two hours prior and had, two hours to think about how his mother would react to finding out he had been in jail. Part of him hoped that she would be proud of him for being released without them figuring him out, but the realistic part said that they would pick up and leaving, he would be lectured on the road. That is, if he ever found her, they really needed to be more prepared, have some sort of motel to meet up at, with specific aliases or something. Damn. Where was that West guy anyhow? Claire said he was from Costa Verde. That was a two hour drive, certainly not a 16 hour drive or flight or however the hell he decided to get here. He just hoped he got here before Claire's father's men did. They would be so fucked if he didn't. Fuck her really had to take a -

"Excuse me kid," John turned and looked up, stopping the drumming of his fingers. He fixed the man with the most withering stare he could muster, raising an eyebrow. The man continued, uncaring, " we released you hours ago. What are you still doing here?"

"Waiting for my mom, she works day shifts and is really pissed off at me." John lied smoothly, years of practice had given him that.

"She ever gonna be here?" The man looked surprised by the mock honesty of the answer. Like he had expected some sarcastic, bitchy response in it's place.

"She probably went to Jake's to bitch about it, and…other things," he spoke slow as if speaking slowly to a confused freshman.

"I'm sure," the man said, a frown doubling the amount of wrinkles, already gracing his old, old features, before turning and heading back inside.

John sunk to the ground against the wall, pulling his legs into the criss cross applesauce position. His head tilted back against the wall, he rested his eyes, wishing the day to be over.

Upon hearing the sound of heavy boots pounding against the ground around him, John frantically opened his eyes, praying it wasn't the man he thought it was, and was rather relieved to see rather than the FBI, blacked decked agent he expected, it was a rather heavyset middle aged man in dress shoes, clacking his way toward the glass door. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he took the moment to reassess the parking lot, make sure everything was still in order. There were only about fifteen parking spaces and only about eight actual vehicles, so it wasn't all that difficult. He frowned taking in the appearance of the, awful, red prius. He hadn't seen it before, but remembering the man he brushed it off. As John reassumed his previous relaxed position he heard another set of footsteps, this time belonging to a boy within a few years of his own age, seemingly appearing from out of nowhere, West.

He was walking in the other's footsteps, towards the front door, his flip phone open in front of him as he thumps erratically moved from button to button. "West?" John ventured, using his hand to stand as the other boy turned to look at him, his gaze meeting John's expectantly. "I'm John, Claire's friend." He extended his arm briefly before withdrawing it, fuck manners.

"Do you know anything about what is going on?"

"Just that she is here, why."

"Um, because, you're sort of her rescue plan. You can fly right?" West's face fell comically.

"Why would she tell you that?" He looked offended and John took that as a sign that they had signed some sort of a pact agreeing not to tell anyone about each other's secrets or something. He obviously had trusted her, and John had just blown that trust.

"Um, do you know that there is a government agency that formed in order to round you people up and lock you up in some sort of facility?"

"Us people?" Goddamn, it, John was just not having any luck with this. "And yes, I did know that, Claire called me, said I should take a road trip across the states, using a fake ID before starting at NYU."

This guy was in college? Wasn't he Claire's ex? John didn't know why, but he really didn't like the idea of Claire dating an older man. "Anyways, they found her, and for whatever reason, she is pretty valuable to them, like getting her is the ultimate reward or something., she is just pretty high up on their wanted list for some reason," to this West frowned, like it confused him, which obviously John didn't understand. "So she was hoping that you would rescue her, you know get her out of this mess.

"Me?" They did not have time for this.

"Yes, you, now can we please get moving, the FBI or APG or whoever the hell is coming is going to be here soon, she has been in here since last night, I'm surprised they are not here already. "

"APG?" Does this guy have a thing for short answers?

"Abnormal People Gatherers, John explained the nickname he had given the m hesitantly. Watching West roll his eyes, John felt so small, like a little kid trying to convince their daddy to play with them. "How old are you anyways?"

"19, same as Claire, does it even matter?" John felt a virtual slap in the face, though he recovered quickly. Since when was Claire 19? She was in his junior class in high school. Whatever, still not the time. "Speaking of," West's voice trailed out as his eyes went to Claire, behind John being led through the parking lot by the heavyset man from earlier. John cursed as his eyes left her face, giving the best 'what the fuck?' look, traveling toward the maroon prius in the parking lot, this time picking up on all the extra security features, embellishing the ugly make.

"You gonna saver her man? Or did you come all the way out here just to watch your girlfriend be lead to her ultimate doom?" John knew he was overreacting, and ultimate doom was probably not the best word choice but, it didn't matter. He just needed this to be over with already.

"The security camera, " West explained, his eyes not once leaving the back of the petite blondes' head. Pulling of his shoe, John chucked it at the faux light on the outdoor ceiling, successfully breaking the glass casing for the camera, noticing West's violent flinch as the glass fell. Picking up his show again he chucked it at the damn thing, causing it to fall and hang at an odd angle, it would never catch any footage it should the way it now dangled.

"Go," John urged, positive he had alerted someone inside to the fact that something they wouldn't like was occurring. "Go," he hissed as West stayed slumped in his stupor. Sighing in aggravated frustration John hit the other man's back, causing him to blink in confusion and annoyance. John flung his hand to his sides and indicated towards Claire with a tilt of his head and a nod. He watched as the boy flew toward the man, rather discreetly before the few moment before impact, then he sped up. The man was on the ground at impact, John laughed out instinctively. Some people were terrible at their jobs. Even from the , slight, distance John could see the glare a handcuffed Claire sent at her ex who was holding his head in pain. John jogged up.

"-in the movies," John only caught on to the tail end of West's rant, but could guess the gist of what he had said. He smirked, which was accompanied by a short laugh by Claire who had managed to let her glare fall away. Clearly he felt the need to defend himself, "that guy was huge, don't laugh." West couldn't help but laugh himself though. John felt out of place, like he was interrupting some private moment, wanting nothing more than to back away he interrupted, asking Claire to turn as he held the key to uncuff her.

"Never mind that," she cried out urgently as she noticed the cops from the station running at the m. John muttered his favorite obscenity under his breath before grabbing the car keys that had fallen to the ground. Kicking the unconscious body from the car he opened the door and climbed into the drivers seat, while West helped Claire into the back seat.

"Fuck, where the hell do you put the key?" He exclaimed in frustration.

"here," West exclaimed, yanking the keys from hi hand, shoving the buttons into a slot on the dashboard. Tapping the touch panel and putting the car into drive before exclaiming for John to drive, falling back as John removed his foot from the brake and shoving it onto the gas, speeding over the cement median.

"Whoa," Claire cried out. Her head and West's both turned watching cops struggle to get into their own cars, John was apply all pressure to the gas possible at this point, in hopes, maybe pointless hope though.

Pulling through an alley, John knew he as losing the head start advantage but still turned and asked West if he could fly Claire out.

"Of course."

"No," Claire exclaimed, banging her newly freed hand against the reinforced window. "Take Z-John, someplace a car couldn't follow, like over that wall or something. I have a brilliant idea."

"Claire…I don't think he could," John fully intended on commenting that West couldn't support his weight but was silenced.

"Do it," she forced, climbing into the front passenger seas, sliding into the driver's seat as John hesitantly got out, followed by West with the influence of one glare. Pushing the automatic window down she backed out of the alley, making sure her seat belt wasn't buckled she drove, leading on the police who had , by this point already caught up with her, trying to find the river he had seen after leaving the airport. Her breathing caught up to her as the car was bumped. Pressing the gas pedal all the way down she took a glance at the display, noting it had reached 108. Why the fuck did these cops care so much about her, it's not like she was running for murder, yet here she was, in a high speed police chase. Sighing in relief as she saw a river, she took a deep breath before speeding in the direction of, knocking out the little guard fencing set up around the river.

The instant the water hit her body and she was submerged, a stream of panic hit her, not unlike the roof of the car as the water pressure forced her up. She was startled as she was actually forced out of the car, driver's ED made it sound like getting out of the car would be the hard part. She tried desperately to stay beneath the water, fight the panic she felt as she drowned, the water was pushing her all over the place and she wanted nothing more than to swim to the top, but she knew that would be a bad idea.

At this point she actually was desperately struggling to get to the top, her survival instincts overriding everything her brain told her was safe. By the time she hit surface she was miles away from where she had first entered, and panting, desperate to gain her breath and there was red blood swelling around her as she realized she had hit a rock, probably saving her from an eternity as a dead body underwater, waiting for the river to dry up. The lower half of her body was still pressed against the rock as she struggled to not let the rapids take her again. Blinking her eyes in an effort force the clouded view into focus she realized she was in the middle of the river, horrible rapids on either side of her. "Perfect she choked out, her lungs having forced the water out of themselves same as they had the bullet, just a day earlier. Had it really only been a day? It felt like forever. Still blinking her eyes, the view finally came into focus, the river was the only thing moving in the entire scene, otherwise she just seemed to be in a desert, about twenty meters down the river was a shallow spot where some of the rocks even poked above the water, sighing she forced herself to the top of the rock and let the river sweep her back in, dragging her down to the shallow spot. Feeling the small pebbles thrash on her thighs, Claire forced herself up, the force of the rapids nearly tearing her back down. She walked, careful to keep her balance to the side of the river she thought she had entered from., collapsing to her knees the moment she hit it. She fell onto all fours , panting, trying to clear her head. She supposed this counted as a near death experience, the equivalent of someone without her power choking on a Dorito. Still a near death experience was bound to leave you in bad shape, with spontaneous regeneration or not.

The moment her breath caught up to her she slumped backwards, taking a quick moment to bask in the sun before standing. What the hell was she supposed to do now? No one knew where she was and she owed it to John and West to at least let them know she was okay, they had both risked themselves for her. Those two were probably killing each other by now. Leaving them alone together was probably not the best idea she could have come up with. She began walking, no particular direction, just where she really hoped she could find some people. Alone in the desert was just not that fun. She felt like she had been walking for days by the time she reached the small town of Graham, her clothes were perfectly, along with most her hair, the only exceptions being a few strands on the underside that were slight damp. She shuddered to think of how she must look at this moment, hair wet and frizzy and probably in a thousand knots, the make up she had put on yesterday probably smeared to the wazoo from being slept on and beaten by the water.

The sun hadn't set. Claire took in, noting it as a good sign, it couldn't be as late as she though. She took in the fancy houses around her, smirking at the gates. She had lived in a gated neighborhood in Odessa but it wasn't a particularly nice neighborhood, but it was only two blocks from the high school. Her father had told her that it was to keep those hooligans out when she had asked as a child. Walking down the street she took in the sight of a Safeway at the end of the street. It somehow reminded her of the raging war her stomach was waging. She was hungry but she doubted that she would be able to pay for any food with her charming smile, she walked in anyway. Upon walking through the front door the clerk in aisle three's eyes never left her. Taking that as a sign that she was not ready for the restaurant she scanned the top of the room for a restroom sign,. Determined to clean up the mess she had mad of herself. She headed toward the back of the store. Once she entered the restroom she took in her own appearance, her mascara was creating raccoon eyes and her hair was a giant ball of knotted frizz. Leaning over the sink she turned the water on, splashing water to her eyes to wash off the make up, deciding that waterproof was not a good thing make up wise. She held her head beneath the running water, brushing it through with her fingers, before using a rubber band from her wrist to tie it back.

About a week after the Sylar incident, Claire had bought a packaged of rubber bands, and would periodically snap them against her wrists. On _Degrassi_, Ellie had done it after she quit cutting. Claire desperately wanted to feel pain, and used those to check if she could., she still couldn't. Which reminded her, she glanced down to see a huge gash in her jeans, surrounded by dried blood. "Perfect." Not even bothering to attempt to fix that one she exited the bathroom, walking to the front of the store, where the Starbucks stand was.

"Can I use your phone?" the man she had asked, a boy in his mid twenties, gave her a once over, eyes hovering on the hole in her jeans before hesitantly handing over his enV touch. Claire gratefully thanked him before typing asking him how to put in the number, blushing as he explained, she dialed West's number, the only one she knew by heart.

"Hello?" The male voice on the other end of the line strung.

"West?"

"Yea?"

"It's Claire." The effect was instantaneous, West let out a surprised breath , before bombarding her with questions, she could hear John put the pieces together in the background, before he joined in with the questions. "Um, Safeway, in Graham, California," Claire responded to the 'Where are you?' thing, next thing she knew, West and John were on their way. She handed the man back his phone before walking towards the café and sitting. It was about an hour later when an employee left his register.

"Excuse me? Um, if you don't at least look like you are shopping we are going to have to ask you to leave," crap, "I don't want to but it's my manager's rules."

"No, I get it," Claire stood, "I'm going to go pretend to shop now." She smiled sarcastically, walking toward the produce aisle. This is just fanfuckingtastic.

* * *

to arrive.


	9. It's Just Who She Was

**DISCLAIMER: I am not in affiliation with the Heroes or Terminator the Sarah Connor Chronicles crew.**

Claire picked up a few carrot sticks, observing the dirty state they appeared to be in, relishing in the cool water spraying down on the other carrots, saving her from the evening heat. She was so hungry and all she wanted was to take a bite from one of the carrots right then and there but common sense reminded her that that wouldn't be a good idea. Replacing the carrots back into their shelf she left the produce section, moving towards the toiletries, where she had no chance of being tempted by the food. She was not going to try to eat toilet paper or paper towels. Peppers, she really wanted peppers, especially bell peppers, she could almost taste it. That's it, she had to get out of there. Turning she left the store, a hurried pace attracting the attention of innocent bystanders.

Once outside she felt the hot heat wave hit her face, walking around the stone design surrounding the store, trailing her fingers on the medieval pattern, she turned a corner, stumbling upon the bus stop bench, sinking down. When the hell were John and West going to get here? Her fingers trailing absentmindedly around the edges of the rip in her designer jeans. She supposed she should just be thankful they were coming at all, god knows she didn't deserve either of their help. John had been so good to her and she risked his and his mother's lives, same with West. She had nearly ruined West and so many other's lives just because she was having a bad day. Zach had been her only real friend, even if he didn't remember it. All her other friendships had been shallow, she hadn't even been able to tell Jackie about her ability and she was supposedly her best friend.

She didn't know exactly how long she sat on the bench but it was long enough for some guy to confuse her for a hooker, or escort as they were supposed to be called, and for a bus driver to throw a fit about having to pull all the way up because he though she was waiting to board. She needed to get out of here. Standing again, Claire walked in the direction of Safeway, eyeing the window displays of the discount stores around it. There were little dolls sitting on the shelves as well as a build a doll, what the fuck was a build a doll? Was that like build a bear? She had one of those, before the fire in her house, it was a carmel-y bear, she had named it Clay, accidentally mistaking it as a space for own name, only realizing at the last second. He dad had taken her to get it the first time he had come home from a business trip without a bear in his hands, she was eight years old. Claire was so engrossed in her memory she didn't notice West's 1997 yellow Camaro SS, until John attempted to 'holla' at her. He was so high school, and this was coming from the girl who was eternally stuck in a fifteen year old body. Rolling her eyes and climbing in she wondered aloud when West had gotten such a cool car, why did he even have one? She though freshmen in college weren't supposed to have one plus he didn't even need one with this ability. Though in all truth, she was probably trying to keep the topic of discussion off her adventure of the day. Trying, and failing.

They were only about five miles out of town by the time West pulled off the road and demanded to know what had happened. Sighing Claire had explained her story from hitting the underwater boulder onward, confused as to why they were confused as to why she was underwater.

"You mean they didn't make a big deal about it?" Claire dragged out, the small girl in her who was desperate for attention was slightly hurt, she had stolen a fucking car and drove it into the fucking river

"Apparently not," John shrugged nonchalantly, "anyways, make a big deal of what."

Claire closed her eyes, more scrunched them tight in a pitiful attempt at "there's no place like home," before continuing her story tightly, this time inserting the part about crashing the car. Insert West's shocked glance here, John just rolled his eyes in response to West's response.

The rest of the ride was silent, only two interruptions all the way into LA. The first was John's pushing of Claire down as a police cruiser passed them, her obscene objection, and both of their petty remarks about the other being a fugitive, the second was Claire's asking of the plan.

"Um, I'm going to meet up with my mom," at this West snorted, to John's age, though in all fairness John would be the oldest of the group had time travel not been used, "I was hoping you had someone whom you could meet up with. My mom is so not going to let you back into the house, especially after this." Oh, Claire was kidding herself thinking that someone might actually care for here.

"Um, yea, but, um first," she dragged, hoping to figure out what to do with her current situation. "I um, am probably going to need a um, fake ID, do you know where I could get one of those." While West looked dumbfounded, John easily supplied her with the name of the man who had made the one she was using before the incident just two nights earlier. Damn, that puts everything into perspective, she thought, after supplying John with the best fake smile she could surmount.

They dropped John off a few blocks from where he had hoped to meet up with his mother, the moonlight displaying his slim figure walking down, then turning into an alleyway. "Bye," he muttered, as if embarrassed somehow. Claire leaned over and gave him a small hug, not really into the whole display of affection. In Odessa, her lunch table had practically been an orgy, but gaining powers does things to change people.

"Who are you going to stay with Claire," West asked with a sidelong glance, he couldn't afford to take his eyes off the wheel for too long, first he flew, then he lived in New York, where nobody knew how to drive. Claire's mind still on leaving Zach forever for the second time, she took a moment to come up with a plausible lie.

"I was actually thinking of enrolling in some college courses in some sort of community college in Texas, you know, finish my education." West didn't push it, which Claire was thankful for, she hated lying.

"Where are you staying tonight?" West asked at a distance.

Crap, " Um I hadn't really thought about it."

"I was going to get a motel room, do you want to stay with me for the night?" Seeing Claire's hesitancy to answer, " I would get two beds if that's what your worried about. Claire let out a giggle, being genuinely amused by the whole situation.

They pulled up to a nearest Motel 6 they could find, as Claire was about to get out of the car with West he turned, "Why don't you stay in the car?" Claire frowned as West walked towards the "lobby.'

"Do I look like a hooker?" she mumbled to herself underneath her breath. "I cannot believe this." She set her eyes on the entrance, awaiting the return of her ex, as she saw him walking back towards the car she fumbled with the door handle, and searched to no avail for the laugh. Suddenly her search was halted by the strongly amused chuckling coming from the other side of the door, sending a glare at West she slid out his door, eyes catching sight of the key. It was a really outdated actual key, with a big plastic disk with the room number. "Glad I could be of amusement to you." she stood, looking up into hi eyes, her whole head practically tilted up, a major disadvantage to only being five feet tall. A smirk played out on her companions face. She followed West toward the room, grimacing as she took in the dirty appearance of the place.

They both stood in the doorway, an awkward silence following as they both went for the same bed, Claire stood, unsure of what to do, as he turned and went for the bed at the far end. Both climbed into their respective beds, fully clothed, neither having been ready for the whole overnight situation. Both succumbing to sleep after mere minutes of climbing in bed.

When Claire awoke the sun was shining through the peaks in the thick curtains, she turned in confusion to the wall, still too asleep to remember how she got their in the first place. The bright red lights on the alarm clock separating the beds flashing 3:08, but she didn't know if that was actually correct. Next to the obtrusive light was a note, sitting, she picked up the note and read.

Dear Claire, I'm sorry I had to leave but you have been asleep for two days, and I had class. I left to motel with my credit card number, please check out before you leave. Um, I don't know what to say really but I hope that you make it out of this mess okay. And, that's um it. ~ West

Two days? Claire's eyes zoned in on the words before standing to head to have her first real shower, unless you count the sponge bath she gave herself in the Safeway bathroom, in nearly a week. Possibly more now, who knows how long ago West left.

Turning the water on hot she stepped in, basking in the warmth, while she choked out a sob. She was truly alone in the world, she had absolutely fucking no one.

Okay, she needed a plan of action, first she would get the fake ID, then she would get a job somewhere out of state, and everything would be fanfuckingtastic. How would she pay for the ID though? She couldn't get a job without proof of identification that the fake ID would supply and she couldn't get fake ID without the money a job would supply. Her mind flashed back to the night before, or whenever the hell it had been. _"Do I look like a hooker?" _Oh fuck. Wrapping herself in a towel and stepping out of the shower she picked up the jeans she had discarded on the floor, ripping most of the legs off, destroying the top as well. Putting on the clothes and standing in front of the mirror, Claire gave herself a sad little smile, she completely looked the part, except for her legs, those needed to be shaved, but other than that, she looked like a cheap whore. Suppressing another sob, Claire walked out of the room, and headed down to the lobby to check out, probably the last thing she would do as an innocent child.


	10. Unfold Who We Will BeEpilogue

Disclaimer:

I am not in affiliation with any of the owners.

* * *

Explosions sounded in the background, Connor instantly cursed, falling from his supposed bunk. He flung himself out the door, scurrying through the halls, there was a hole in the wall he had noticed once on a walk. It was a tiny hole, crumbling concrete surrounded it. It was the only weak spot in the whole base, the first left after the hall he was in. He took the first right he came across, ignoring all the resistance fighters. He ran to the 'civilians' bunk, flinging himself to the ground the second he passed the door. Not bothering to check to sea if anyone else was in the room with him, just concerned about getting out allive, he crawled towards the so-called-beds, removing any identifying clothing and flinging it beneath a bed several beds down. shoving his body into an awkward angle, he propped himself against the back wall, letting his eyes travel to the other occupant of the room. A blonde boy, not any older than seven. The kid had tears streaming down his face, and John was instantly thankful he didn't have the cloudy-headed fear and sorrow of the boy.

Patiently, Connor waited as terminator after terminator entered the room, scouring it for any hidden resistance fighters, anyone who might pose a threat to their cause. They barely even noticed John who whimpered against the wall, the picked him up and displaced him, to further their search. It was by no means gentle but they weren't out to kill him, he certainly wasn't complaining. They were not intentionally grabbing so strong, it was just the way they were built. The little boy's body couldn't take it. John watched as the life was drained from his body, as the first terminator held him up, scanning the floorboards beneath his watched as the fragile body crumpled to the floor and barely even blinked a metaphorical eye, ofcourse physically he kept up appearances by chocking out gasps and squinting. All the while, in his head he was just praying that none of the terminators that had infiltrated their base were ones from the past. None of the few, that had been in the past before the time change. But why would they, how would they even have those commands programmed.

He wasn't sure how long he sat, faking total fear. On the inside he was terrified, he couldn't feel that though. He had to make himself into who he was meant to be, and in order to do that he had to survive. He kept his head tilted back, through each terminator. Between every terminantor he began counting, he would try to count until he didn't know the next number. After terminator number seven, he achieved this. Standing once he did, carefully walking out to the hall, feigning an injury all the way.

He walked toward the hall with the hole. Frowning upon the sight of it in the same place and condition it had been since the first time he had stumbled upon it, while wandering around after being told off by the head resistance leader in his camp, Riemhofer.

Briefly, Connor wondered who all had survived the attack. Briefly John Connor freaked, was Kyle alright. Counting back from ten, John calmed himself. If Kyle was hurt, John should be the first to know.

He had come up with a theory while dancing with Allison Young, after a celebration, the two had been so drunk, and had ended up doing something regrettable. John had worsened the situation by accidentally calling her Cameron. Any shot he had at normalcy and comfort around her people had been officially busted in the ass. He hated himself for the whole sitation but there was nothing he could do at that point. Allison being the little bitch she was had made sure no one of power in the camp ever went anywhere near him or trusted him. She had begged to know who Cameron was, probably to beat the girl Not that Allison would have been able to do that Cameron was, as once to reffered as, one tough cookie.

John stumbled around toward the entrance. He had to find another camp. He needed to find the next camp or, they wouldn't survive. John Connor needed to be around, or the world wouldn't be around much longer. Stumbling towards the ladder, John desperately tried to hoist himself up, towards actual ground. The terminators had sufficiently cut off his oxygen intake for long enough for him to struggle to think strait. He shoved the top up, forced himself to crawl on the the destroyed land. There had once been a time where the people had stayed underground and underwater as much as they could, not ever taking the chance to go above ground. Fear of radiation had been overwhelming but luckily John only knew about this through stories. People had been surprised at his supposed ignorance. It didn't matter anymore though, now he could take all the time in the world to just roll around in the dirt. Terminators usually stayed out of their way in this area. They were somewhere in Oregon, some sort of desert, it had never been a big city, there wasn't much there. There had once, in the 20th century been a whole shitload of mustard gas in the area, buried after World War 1 in these mounds type things. The theory Riemhofer had on why the Terminators stayed out of the area is because they still believed mustard gas filled the area, that people were still too afraid that the Russian bombs had set loose the gas into the air. Logan James had been a World War 1 Fanatic, he had spent 3 years in Oregon, trying to convince the feds to let him onto the property, had traveled all over the state trying to find one of their training facilities that were still intact.

John pushed himself to his feet, the nearest camp was in Southern California or there was one in Nevada he could also go to. Kyle Reese had been at his camp but he was from the California one. John would bet that was where he would go too.

* * *

"Help," a girl, probably a few years younger than John, muttered. She was leaned onto the crumbling remains of an old office building, there was a large rock crushing the girls ankle. John was about to turn back around, to keep going, the girl would just slow him down. But John looked beyond the dried out curly hair of Riley. "Oh my god," John instantly buckled to his knees, remembering seeing her frail, lifeless body just two years ago, or twenty-two years techniqually. He crawled over and pushed the rock off of her body as gently as he could, frowning at the sight of the blood dried over the wound. He watched as the girl who had inspired him rolled her head to face him, with a small smile adorning her features.

"Were you hit?" John asked.

"Uhm, no," she replied softly, allowing John to help her up, placing as little weight possible to her, on the injured leg. Even the regular 'citizens' were used to suppressing their pain, how pitiful was that? "I am so pathetic, I have been staying in this building for the past week or so, I tried to climb this wall to get to the next floor."

"I could have been a machine, why did you risk asking me for help?" John stood, about equal in height to the girl who could have modeling potential in a different world.

"I was dead either way, besides, a terminator would have seen me already. You didn't, I knew it was worth the risk."

John sighed at her answer, and offered his left side for support as they walked. He knew he had hit San Francisco by the sight of the shadow people or the crumbled buildidngs. It was going to get really dangerous from here onwards. The night time was drawing to an end, they would continue on then.

* * *

They were in LA the first time Riley complained.

"I'm hungry, I haven't eaten for the past week, I don't know about you but I am drawing on my limits. It was their third night together and they had taken refuge in an old dentistry building. Riley was reclined on the patient's chair.

"I'm not sure there is much to offer here except really, really old toothpaste."

Riley frowned, "What's toothpaste?" For the first time John realized that Riley hadn't even been born until after the bombs, she was what, 15 in 2029, the bombs had fallen in 2012. Ha wow, he had never really believed the world would end in 2012, who would have guessed.

* * *

John stood, watching as Riley practically flung herself into the kitchen a small smirk playing out on his face.

"I didn't peg such a skinny girl for such a heavy eater." John cursed himself for allowing someone to sneak up on him. He turned only to have his jaw drop as he took her in, but unlike all the It's Just Who I Am readers, he was just shocked to see Claire.

"You look surprised," she chuckled.

"You look exactly the same Claire."

"Yea it's pretty nice. Although there is a downside such as not being able to get into R movies or buy beer or for that matter, not being able to even get drunk. It does suck to be in a 15 year old mindset for my entire life but can I do, really?"

"How old are you really then?"

"Uhm, I will turn 40 next year, but I will always say things like totally and like. How about you, you don't have a power to blame so why do you look the exact same as you did twenty years ago?" He tone wasn't accusatory, bored maybe, but not accusatory, her face was confused though.

"Um, time travel, again."

"Ha, why do you do that?"

"Um, I had a weak moment, you know that terminator who was staying with us? She had jumped to the future, I had developed something of a crush on her after my girlfriend had been killed by my potential aunt, I was a bit of a wreck. So I went after her, desperate for her. I thought she was hot. I don't know, I ended up erasing my legacy. NOw I am trying to recreate it differently. You know just trying to survive. How about you, what happened after we split." He continued on with his story even as her face portrayed horror.

"That's terrible. How long ago was this, I mean I know it was twenty years ago for me but how long ago was it for you?"

"About three years."

"That's awful, are you okay?"

"Yea, I'm fine. It was awhile ago, I'm not weak."

"I didn't say you were," she rolled her head back, her eyes closed. "You know what nevermind."

"You never told me about what happened to you these past twenty years."

"Nothing much, I have been bumping around resistance camps. I was in on the resistance for awhile in the beginning but after I got out of too many impossible situations that they attacked me as a terminator, I barely got out and decided to work on my own for awhile that's basically it, I have been trying to stay underground."

"Oh, um that's actually really cool."

"Yea I thought so too for awhile, how do you handle all this pressure of wanting to save people, no that's not right, of needing to save people. I have been trying to do this for the past 14 years and it just really gets to me. I went through a phase of trying to kill myself every time I let someone die. I felt all the pressure of needing to save everyone. I thought of you a lot. My situation just made me think of how you must have felt being raised into this world." Claire said, it seemed to the passer byers as seductive, but John just didn't see it.

"Yea, you notice I rebelled a lot." He said, "I never really knew how to handle it either."

"Yea, speaing of, how did things go with your mom? Were ther fireworks?" She was full on grinning.

"Yea, you so did not want to see that. I completely expected to die. Cameron was there and she was going over the flaws in my plan. Then when they found out I was in jail Mom like clotted my ears or something, you know she grabbed them and dragged me to her car completely made like we were going to leave, we probably were. Cameron talked her out of all the flaws in that plan though. It was terrible, I repeatedly told my mom Fuck you. It was a very long grounding." John told her, grimacing at the recollection of the annoying portion in his life.

"I'm sorry, it was all my fault, they arrested you because I accidently led them to you and then you were helping me find my way back." Claire said, her brown eyes completely apologetic.

"It's okay, it was a long time ago." John almost thought it was funny how she was apologizing for getting him grounded two decades ago.

"So that girl, I recognize her, did she jump through time with you?"

"No actually, she was from the future, and this is her present self, she is the girlfriend who died."

"Oh my god, now I feel bad, I just cannot stay on a happy topic with you." Claire brown eyes still holding the apologetic gaze.

"Well it's not like we have any movies we can talk about anymore."

"Did we ever, all I have ever seen is chick flicks, and YOu lived with an tomboy mom and terminator, unless you were hiding something from me I doubt we ever had a common movie we had seen." He smirked and nodded his head as if to say true. "What about your thinking on gay marriage."

"Um, whatever floats your boat I guess, are you...?"

"No, I'm just thinking because when I first met you I thought you were gay then when I met you again, you just didn't seem that way anymore. Maybe you were going through a confused phase."

"I wish I could remember what I was thinking." John truly tried not to think of anything that might lead him to thinking of those lost years.

"Hmm, well, maybe I will see you around."

"Oh, yea, what are you doing here anyways. If you have been trying to stay underground, why go straight to the people who you have been avoiding."

"Yea um, I was picked up after having a pole go straight through my arm a few years ago, I accidently ended up donating som body organs while talking gibberish because of some gas they released into the air. Ever since then I will occasionally come down to donate like a heart or blood or something." She paused a moment, "Um, I have a friend in there, knows what I can do, contacted me when som guy named Reese or something needed a new heart. Well I am going to head out now, I will see you later or something." She said, picking up a grey duffle bag, some sort of black cloth hanging from the only partially zipped opening. Leaving John in a state of shock.

"What was Reese's first name?"

"Um, Kale or something with a K? Why?"

"Kyle?"

"Yea, if you know him he is going to be fine, it worked. He is in recovery now, I am sure you can see him there."

"Thanks, um, bye again." Claire smiled, nodded and walked out the door. John noticed she wasn't dressed the same as most the people of the time, she was wearing some sort of a red skirt with a white top. He didn't know it but it was her first cheerleading uniform, it had been in the storage she was sharing with Peter in Mexico. They kept their favorite things they would hate to lose. The names they used to to register for it were Klair Lauper and Dylan Sullivan. Claire had thought Klair looked like a badass name, she really wanted to obtain the whole look and died her hair redbrown. She had kissed her uncle in that storage shed, then promptly thrown up. She had kept her crush on her uncle until seeing him die, killed after attacking a terminator, he provoked it and it killed him. Claire had tried to get him to absorb his power, had put her blood in his system but all his brain was gone, there was nothing to power the blood to save him. Afterwards she had gone back down to the shed and found all her old stuff and became who she was before. She tried to become the good little soldier that everyone wanted her to be. He didn't know she was going to try to kill herself over and over because the friend who had called her had been Simon Petrelli, the brother who had rejected her. Simon had always treated her like scum.


End file.
